


Gold in the Air of Summer

by RyeRiley



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, First Crush, Past Relationship(s), Romantic Fluff, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 60,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23613880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyeRiley/pseuds/RyeRiley
Summary: With her sudden return to Halifax, Anne Lister realized that their family owned inn is not earning as much as they hoped it would be. Anne works on the renovations of their inn to return it to its former glory. Unknown to her family, she is using this project not only to save them from financial loss but also as a distraction to mask her current heartbreak.Despite her success as an artist and going to various places all over the world, Ann Walker sees to it that she gets back to work in her studio in her family's manor during summertime. Little does she know that she would encounter and old crush this time around.Some feelings are realized and some feelings are rekindled; maybe it is a little bit of both, all in one summer homecoming.
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854), Mariana Lawton/Anne Lister (1791-1840), Vere Hobart Cameron/Anne Lister (1791-1840)
Comments: 132
Kudos: 252





	1. It's A House That Used To Be

**Author's Note:**

> During this quarantine period, I just finished watching the first season of Gentleman Jack. This fic is inspired by the series as well as the song "Gold in the Air of Summer" by Kings of Convenience, also used as the title here. 
> 
> I do not own any of the characters in this work, they are based on historical figures and the interpretations of Sally Wainwright as the show's creator. I am also borrowing the mood from the song mentioned in the title to establish the characters in the contemporary setting. 
> 
> I do not have a beta reader so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Here are a few chapters, let me know what you think!

* * *

The leaves have fallen from trees as the temperature dips in the afternoon. There was a thunderstorm last night but the days have gotten warmer, the heatwaves might come and the sun setting later than usual. Anne wore a black tunic, its hem and sleeves embroidered with white threads forming Coptic patterns. She wore dark cropped pants and a worn pair of tan brogues. Her hair was set in a messy ponytail, the fringes framing her structured face. It was difficult to get some sleep after what happened months ago, she had more wrinkles and the corners of her mouth drooped more than the usual. Whatever reason for her sudden homecoming was unclear to her family, her sister, Marian was surprised as a deer caught in headlights when she suddenly saw her sister’s stumped frame passing by their dining room window. It has been a week, yet Anne was quite mum and vague regarding her abrupt and perhaps permanent presence in Halifax. Some neighbors and family friends have passed by, tried to maintain some small talk with Anne but thus far her only explanation was that she got tired of Hastings and has just decided to come home and will stay indefinitely.

“This needs a lot of work.” Samuel’s low voice broke Anne from her reverie.

“Pardon?” Anne murmured. She eventually realized that she was standing in front of Shibden Inn next to her childhood friend and inn manager, Samuel Washington.

“You asked me what I think, Anne. Restoring it to its former glory, it would need a lot of work.” Samuel muttered.

“Why haven’t you told me about this? It has been years, Sam.” Anne huffed.

“I tried to convince Marian but you know your sister, she’s just happy with it breaking even. After all, she said you shouldn’t be bothered with this, especially after you up and left.” Samuel explained trying to be careful with his words as much as possible.

Shibden Inn was one of the oldest establishments in Halifax. With its original half-timber Tudor carcass, the structure has surpassed several generations and has been part of the landscape of Halifax. The management of the inn was initially taken care of by Anne’s aunt and uncle. Her uncle passed away when she was in her teens and her Aunt Anne left it to her care when she passed away five years ago. Not having a very good relationship with her alcoholic mother who also passed away when she was young, Anne looked up to her aunt. So, it was surprising for her father and her sister that she just up and left them with the inn some seven years ago and went to Hastings to pursue her culinary career. Being the expert with food, Anne’s aunt thought that she would develop Shibden but she became the head chef of a restaurant called, “The Deck” in Pelham Beach in Hastings. However, despite everything, Anne now finds herself looking at the façade of Shibden Inn, like a lingering memory at the back of her mind.

“Well, the past is past. I’m more concerned with the present, what do we do now?” Anne breathed, crossing her arms over her torso.

“Well, I’ve been looking at the trends, we been seeing more hipster backpackers as of late.” Samuel wiggled his eyebrows placing an arm over his friend’s shoulder. “Usually they come in clusters by the start of summer.”

“How is the restaurant fairing?” Anne mumbled.

“I say this not to offend you but the last menu that you made seems to be all over the place, Anne.” Samuel slurred.

“I see.” Anne remained unoffended, simply in deep thought.

“I know travelling all over the world has influenced you but Ms. Cordingley is not an expert on pasta and fish nor is she faring well with tacos. She hasn’t been to Italy or Mexaico, Anne. She has never left Halifax in the first place, she’s just following your recipes to dot but like a blind mouse. It’s good to think about worldly visions and taste but we need to provide for the local palate as well, if we wish to be sustained.” Samuel explained. 

“I think I know what you mean.” Anne lingered.

“I’ve been telling Marian about this but the menu’s not really her forte and her hands are full with accounting and the maintenance of the rooms as we speak.” Samuel added.

“Well, I really don’t blame her, Sam. But I’m here now, we still have a few weeks before the summer flock arrives, do we?” Anne inquired.

“What are you planning, Anne?” Samuel speculated.

“A renovation.” Anne confirmed.

“What do you mean a renovation?” Samuel was a bit surprised.

“Well, let’s update the rooms and the kitchen, add more seating in the dining room, set up a proper bar and fix this deteriorating façade.” Anne points at the dilapidated wrought iron signage that reads _Shibden Inn._

“Are you serious, Anne? Could we afford it?” Samuel wondered.

“I would need to puncture my personal savings but since I won’t be traveling much anymore, then perhaps we will manage. Will you be able to find me a good designer and a contractor?” Anne inquired.

“Well, I guess you can consider my son in law, Thomas? He has been working freelance for some time now and perhaps I can call Hinchcliffe.” Samuel stated.

“Ow, how can I forget, Thomas is indeed a designer. Hinchcliffe? Is he still alive?” Anne wondered.

“Not the older Hinchcliffe, his son, the younger Hinchcliffe, he can look at the structure for us.” Samuel jeered.

“Alright then, do what you have to do.” Anne patted Samuel’s back.

“But how about Marian? Have you talked to her already?” Samuel realized.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her. Run along now.” Anne gestured as she entered the foyer.

* * *

“A renovation? Are you insane, Anne?” Marian accidentally dropped her spoon while eating her pumpkin soup during breakfast; the family were taking their meal in the breakfast nook.

The room was well lit by its tall windows; the manor had experienced several renovations under Anne’s encouragement before. The original ceiling molding in the dining room was kept, now lined with track lights. The room features a round bespoke table flanked by metal chairs with leather seats in black atop a custom rug with geometrical patterns.

“It needs updating, Marian.” Anne spoke while mid sip at her Earl Grey tea in a white porcelain cup. “For it to gain more revenue” She added.

“It is fine as it is.” Marian defended.

“We’ve been losing revenue; add a few more months and you’ll be looking into a liability.” Anne explained nonchalantly as she moved to cut a sausage on her plate.

“Who told you that?” Marian had a horrified look.

“Samuel. Why haven’t you said anything to me?” Anne inquired with a stern look.

Their father, Jeremy, though a little bit deaf tried to keep up with the conversation while reading the women’s lips.

“I would eventually had found a way.” Marian mumbled. “As if you cared.” She added.

“Of course, I care…” Anne was about to raise her voice. “I know I made mistakes but I am here now.” Anne tried to maintain her composure.

“Where will we get the expenses?” Marian challenged.

“I’ll take care of it.” Anne immediately responded. 

“Hooray for the hero! Now you’re here to save the day!” Marian mocked.

“How many times do I need to apologize, Marian?” Anne sounded more concerned.

“It would only take you a matter of months until you get bored and you’ll leave us again.” Marian spoke almost inaudibly without looking at Anne.

“Will you be here to supervise everything then?” Jeremy finally interjected.

“I will be here to supervise and I will be here to stay and run things, father.” Anne stated firmly.

“Well, I’ll believe you when I see it.” Marian muttered.

Anne would not wish to argue with her sister any further. She simply slumped back to her seat with a sigh. She would need to convince her sister and it would entail some consistency on her end.

* * *

She was home for more than a week, but it was only her second time to take a walk around the main street. She would want nothing but remain cooped up in her studio all day trying to finish the large canvas lined on the wall but she had errands to run. She could send someone to do that for her, but her life abroad had taught her to become more independent.

After getting her degree in art and sculpture, Ann Walker had travelled across Europe participating in various art fairs and exhibitions. She knew that her family’s status had helped her in her trade but she had worked hard to make a name for herself as well. Ann belonged to one of the oldest landed families in Halifax, they don’t own much land anymore but she is an heiress to a furniture manufacturing plant now being run by her cousins. She just came home from Paris and perhaps staying in Halifax in the summer would inspire her to come up with more work in the process. Ann had indeed loved staying in Amsterdam and Barcelona for the past years but the spaces she rented in those places weren’t big enough for a proper studio. Therefore, each year she would always go home to her family’s manor in Halifax where she has set up a decent studio within the family’s compound. Her only sister is based in New Zealand now, so it was only useful for her to settle at home several months within the year to keep an eye on their property and to have some time for her work.

Ann was amused by how traditional Halifax has remained. Indeed, the previous vast farmlands are now lined with business offices, stores and residential buildings but the slow pace endured. She walked in the cobblestone pathway leading to the bank. She needed to make a withdrawal and then get some more art supplies. Summer was settling in so Ann walked around in a denim jumper over a white tank top, a red bandana neck scarf, and a pair of boots. She was taking a leisurely stroll when something caught her eye across the street. It was a bit hectic in front of Shibden Inn. In the past years, she would frequent the inn for a drink or two and their restaurant was decent enough to invite some tourist friends to. Plus, the inn was owned by the Listers, a family as old as the Walkers in Halifax. The younger Lister who now oversees the inn, Marian is always gracious to her.

She took a second look at the scene in front of her. Seemingly, a group of men are examining one of the eaves visible at the façade. She could make out Samuel Washington, the inn’s manager and his son in law, Thomas up on the roof. Below is Marian’s frazzled form seemingly trying to explain something to a tall woman with her back to where Ann was standing across the street. The form was so familiar; surely, Ann could not mistake her for someone else. _Since when was she back?_ Ann asked herself. Standing with her arms on her hips in a loose black shirt and dark denim pants was no other than Anne Lister. Ann had confirmed her speculation when the person in her line of sight had suddenly moved to reveal the profile of her face. She looked a little bit distraught, Ann realized. Of course, they were older now but Ann felt that familiar sensation at the pit of her stomach once again.

Not so many summers ago when she was just a timid fourteen year old riding her bike towards the main street hoping that she would catch a glimpse of Anne Lister, who was only home for the summer some years after she graduated from the university. Indeed, Ann was older now, perhaps more confident but she never did get the courage to talk to Anne Lister back then, not ever. She knew that Anne had often travelled, so she also decided to travel, but they had never bumped into each other, not in airports and never in any city that Ann has been. She knew that Anne worked in Hastings, she actually dined at The Deck, but she was never brave enough to ask for an audience with the chef. It has been about half a decade since she last saw Anne, not that she’s counting nor can she denies that she remained hopeful in the many summers that she visited Shibden. She couldn’t really understand what she felt for Anne back then or why she would randomly pop up in her thoughts even up until her adult life. But after realizing her sexuality while she was at the university, she had pieced everything together, it could only be that she had a crush on Anne Lister. Crush might sound too juvenile, probably she fancied her then. She couldn’t negate the fact that Anne had starred in one of her wet dreams while she was at the university dorms before. But she’s definitely not in love with her or is she like a desperate fan girl, after all she doesn’t know Anne that well. They had only exchanged a few pleasantries when Anne went to the wake of her parents who died from a car accident when she was nineteen. However, whenever she was home, she would often pass by Shibden Inn, knowing deep inside, she’s just wondering if she’ll bump into Anne Lister again.

Ann was least hopeful during this summer that is why; she is quite astounded with the scene in front of her. She never realized how long she stood across the street in front of Shibden Inn when Marian finally spotted her. Marian gave a small smile and a wave and this had caught Anne Lister’s attention. Anne immediately turned to see who Marian was waving to and during this moment, Ann was petrified from where she stood. As she waved back to Marian, Anne joined in with a bright big smile. A smile that Ann hasn’t seen in ages, a smile that got her weak on her knees once more.

* * *


	2. And the Garden is Overgrown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And here I thought you had nothing but eyes for the ladies.” Marian derided. “You’re telling me you don’t recognize, Ann Walker?” She swatted her sister’s shoulder for emphasis.
> 
> “Ann Walker? The little tool, Ann Walker? Liz’s baby sister?” Anne was certainly astonished. Her last memory of young Ann Walker was her snotty face during her parents’ wake.

* * *

“Who was that?” Though a bit exasperated with her sister, Anne managed to get distracted from their task.

Samuel and Thomas were up in the roof, examining the extent of the damage. They never really did any serious upkeep but perhaps realizing that termites are becoming a threat perhaps this renovation was timely after all.

“You smiled at her and you’re telling me that you didn’t even recognize her?” Marian scoffed. “What a flirt” She added almost inaudibly.

“I was just being polite, you know.” Anne was probing, the woman who continued to walk across the street has caught her attention; the possibility of termites in her ceiling are now forgotten. The woman looked like she was just Marian’s age or perhaps a bit younger. She seemed a bit too cosmopolitan for Halifax, walking with a carefree demeanor and all too bohemian looking.

“Seriously, you don’t recognize her?” Marian said a bit flabbergasted.

“Yes, seriously, do you know her?” Anne was getting more curious.

“And here I thought you had nothing but eyes for the ladies.” Marian derided. “You’re telling me you don’t recognize, Ann Walker?” She swatted her sister’s shoulder for emphasis.

“Ann Walker? The little tool, Ann Walker? Liz’s baby sister?” Anne was certainly astonished. Her last memory of young Ann Walker was her snotty face during her parents’ wake.

“She’s not a tool you know. She has a degree in art, I think and she has been globetrotting herself; though I always see her at home in the summer.” Marian recalls. “She’s been here at the inn a couple of times.” She added.

“She’s younger than you, right?” Anne speculated further, following Ann with her gaze until she disappeared into the next corner.

“You really have no idea do you?” Marian laughed. “She was still in middle school when I graduated high school, so that makes her several years my junior. Wait; do you even know how old I am?” Marian realized.

“Of course, I know how old you are!” Anne responded in defense but in her mind, she was counting.

“Then, how old am I?” Marian asked with arms akimbo.

“I don’t know, thirty…forty?” Anne panicked.

“All you should do was to count backwards, Anne. Certainly you know your own age. You’re just three years older than me!” Marian exclaimed as she walked back towards the inn.

“Like I said, thirty, you’re thirty-eight!” Anne bellowed behind her.

“Do you even know my birthday?” Marian asked with her hand on the doorknob.

“You ask too many questions, Marian.” Anne said for some delay while counting again in her head.

“Seriously?” Marian was fuming. “You really need to pause for that?” Marian slammed the door to her sister’s face.

“August! It’s your birthday in August!” Anne cried after her sister. 

As the two sisters went back to their bickering, Samuel was just getting down from the roof to give the results of their inspection.

“I have good news…” Samuel began when she realized that the duo were gone as he reached the end of the ladder. “Hey, where did they go?” He could only scratch his head.

* * *

“So, I suppose we won’t be able to accommodate guests this summer then?” Anne continued to go over the Gantt chart in front of her.

The group was seated in a booth in the inn’s restaurant. The sisters have decided to cease operations for the meantime given that there were no bookings so far. 

“Well, there are no termites but given all the wood in this structure, Hinchcliffe has still suggested that we do the treatment for some good measure. The treatment and airing out of the space will add another week to our schedule.” Thomas explained, pointing out at the schedule in Anne’s hand.

“This would take over a month and probably two more weeks without incident.” Samuel expounded.

“Well, it’s either we do it right or not at all.” Anne realized. “Can we afford that?” She directed her question at her sister.

“Well, given that I have not accepted bookings for the coming month, I guess we can manage that.” Marian answered. “But wait, I thought you will pay for it?” She clarified.

“Yes, I’m paying for it. What I’m asking is that whether we have the time or not?” Anne simplified.

“I think we shouldn’t rush this, we can even prepare for a relaunching if it will help with marketing. I mean we can start fresh.” Anne remarked.

“Starting fresh? Like a new image?” Samuel questioned.

“Yes, a new start; a new interior, updated rooms, working WiFi, new menu, merchandise, a decent bar, whatever will help us bounce back.” Anne huffed.

“Yeah, definitely, the interiors had been dark and drab if I may speak honestly. I can definitely help you with this; you guys need to attract more people, tourists and locals included.” Thomas involved. “We can have a separate meeting for what you guys want tomorrow, Anne.” He added.

“All right, let’s talk about the renovation tomorrow at brunch; say ten o’clock, good with you, Thomas?” Anne asked and Thomas replied with an enthusiastic nod. “Also, let’s look into the menu, Sam and probably go over a new system and an updated website, Marian?” Anne addressed the two others in the table.

“Well, I think we’re off to a good start.” Samuel tapped on the hardwood table.

“It’s getting late; I think we’ll continue this tomorrow then.” With handshakes and warm hugs to the sisters, Samuel and Thomas left without further ado.

The sisters were left alone seated beside each other in the booth for a while.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Anne?” Marian finally broke the silence. “What happened in Hastings?” She added.

“I’m home, Marian, like I said, it’s a new start.” Anne tried to evade the question. She has been evading her family for some time now, not really addressing the enquiry for her sudden homecoming.

“You’re planning for a total renovation, Anne and you don’t even care how much it will cost you. Are you sure that the inn is not just some metaphor for your life?” Marian muttered softly, now, with more affection in her tone. “Why did you suddenly leave Hastings?” She added.

Then a bitter memory just came flooding in.

_“I’m done, Anne.” Vere dropped to her knees._

_“What do you mean, Vere?” Anne slumped beside her._

_“I can’t do this anymore.” She took off the ring from her finger._

_“I don’t understand.” Anne’s voice trembled as Vere handed the ring to her._

_“I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for. I don’t see myself with you, anymore.” Vere managed to say behind her tears. “It’s just that, I want that life; the house with a picket fence, a couple of kids running around with the dog, it’s just that I can’t bear to do it this way. I don’t want to go looking for a donor and sticking up a tube inside of me. I don’t want having to explain myself to people every time. I don’t want my kids to be bullied. I just don’t have the strength to do it all, I am not like you!” It was like word vomit for Vere but her words have punctured Anne’s heart each time she finishes a sentence._

_“Is there someone else?” Anne whispered._

_“What makes you say that?” Vere seem to sound guilty._

_“I’ll ask again, is there someone else?” Anne trembled as her hand fisted the ring._

_“Are you accusing me of…” Vere started in her defense._

_“What is his name?” Anne interjected. “What’s his name? The man who would make life easier for you? The one who would make things more bearable? What’s his name?” Anne cried._

_“Donald, his name is Donald.”_

“Hey Anne, what happened? You can tell me. What did Vere do?” Marian broke Anne’s contemplation.

Marian and her father were very much aware of Anne’s relations, perhaps only those that mattered. But they perfectly knew that she was living in a flat with a woman named Vere Hobart. They knew that she wasn’t just a roommate, the first time that they heard about her five years ago. It’s just that Anne had this belief, she wouldn’t bring someone home unless they were worth it, unless they were it. So, what really happened with Vere Hobart and Anne? Marian was still in the dark but she knew it had something to do with her sister’s sudden return.

“She met Donald” Was all Anne could whisper before she had started to break down on her sister’s shoulder.

Marian could do nothing but envelop her wailing sister in a tight hug, rubbing her back as she sobbed. This was a rare display of trust and affection between the sisters. Despite all the squabbling, Marian knew that they were always there for each other, no questions asked. So, in the dimly lit booth inside the empty restaurant of their inn, Anne cried in her sister’s embrace helplessly; Marian held her, understanding that there was no need for any more words to be said. Unbeknownst to the duo, their father stood by the stairs above them, realizing how aggrieved her eldest daughter was. 

* * *

“I got you lunch!” Catherine Rawson declared as she entered her cousin’s studio.

Catherine and Ann were closest of age among the cousins; hence, they had always took care of each other growing up. Ann’s studio was an extension of the Walker manor. The heritage house stood in good shape where it was built, as not to damage the traditional structure; Ann simply added a covered walk that would lead to her studio. Her studio is simply more than just a hundred square meter stone structure with exposed rafters and plastered walls. The wooden parts of the structure are kept with their natural finish and the plaster was simply painted white. Anne still slept in the main house from time to time but she had set up everything in her studio. She had a small bedroom, a decent en suite, a galley kitchen and an herb garden at the back. In the middle of the open space is a functioning rustic fireplace, a boxy one in stone and concrete; around it are a couple of recliners and chairs made of metal and distressed leather. A comfortable daybed with various exotic cloths and throw pillows is aligned with a driftwood center table. Native American area rugs with red, brown and orange details demarcate the living space and a massive oak table that doubles as a dining table and a workspace. Long wooden benches flank the eight seater rectangular table. The floors are left bare, only made of polished concrete. The walls are also left empty; intentionally used to support the large canvases, which comprise Ann’s works. Ann’s works would draw deep emotions from its viewers; it was once described by a critic as Ann’s “interest in scientific symbols with the emotive effect of color”. It would remind you so much of Mark Rothko’s masterpieces. Though in contrast, Rothko could absorb you into deep somberness, whereas Ann captures you into a graceful whirlwind of passions.

“Come in!” Ann answered; she was stepping down from a ladder. She was working with an eight feet tall piece. Wisps of tangerines and ochres are engulfed by tumultuous waves of teals and midnight blues. Ann’s hair was kept in place by a black bandana, she wore a white tank top that has seen better days, and her denim trousers were covered in various blobs of paint. She walked barefoot towards Catherine who was already setting up their lunch on the large table.

“I got you a kale salad and some baked salmon.” Catherine smiled taking a bite of her asparagus. “Do wash your hands first.” She reminded her cousin.

“Thank you so much for bringing lunch.” Ann muttered as she wiped her now washed hands in a towel. “I often forget the time.” She added as she sat opposite Catherine.

“It isn’t a bother; I know how you get when you work.” Catherine remarked. She was already used to their cousin’s work habits; therefore, eating lunch with her whenever she was around had been a necessity. “I can see that you’re in the zone but can I bother you for a drink after?”

“Well, yeah, I’m kind of into it but I guess I can make time for drinks.” Ann replied. “As long as you stop setting me up with your friends that is.” Ann reminded.

Catherine has been a constant in Ann’s life but perhaps she left so much prejudice that she never realized that Ann was a lesbian until their young adult life. Since then, she has seized setting Ann up with her male friends but perhaps with her bisexual female friends instead. Knowing that Catherine has never left Halifax to help in the management of the factory with her father, she has left Ann with just a few prospects. Some her acquaintances visited her from other regions but no one had ever caught Ann’s interest to take it further than their initial dinner or night out together.

“I know you have travelled and the Halifax lot may be too boring for you but you still need that from time to time you need a thorough shag!” Catherine joked.

“You know I’m not a prude but you perfectly know that I’m not casual either.” Ann raised an eyebrow at her cousin. “Plus, what makes you think that I have not gotten any?” Ann joked.

“Ew, it would be such a disappointment to learn that you’ll get STIs with some random people. Whatever you say, anyway, it would just be me and you, catching up.” Catherine gave her cousin a wide smile.

“We can go to Shibden to be safe.” Ann suggested the pub since it was less populated on Friday evenings but she couldn’t help but get excited at the thought. This means chances are, she would bump into Anne Lister this evening.

“Well, I’d say it’s the perfect spot for some uninterrupted conversation but I’ll have you know that Marian will be closing the inn for a month or so.” With that news, Catherine had just burst Ann’s bubble.

“Closing? For a month?” So, that was all the racket was about this morning.

“Yup, her sister wants to do some renovations, I think. Thomas Sowden had just called up the showroom for a visit; I guess the Listers have hired him for the work. He’ll be looking at some furniture tomorrow” Catherine shared.

“Will Anne be overseeing the renovations?” Ann could not mask her hopefulness.

“Hmm, and that interests you?” Catherine had a mischievous smile.

“Just curious that’s all, I just saw them up at main street this morning.” Ann directed her attention at her salad.

“Huh, the older Lister interests you, eh? Why haven’t I thought about her before?” Catherine teased. “Well, word from the grapevine said that she just suddenly came home leaving everything behind in Hastings. Her career, the restaurant where she worked, she just upped and left. She’s been gone for almost a decade, leaving Shibden to poor Marian’s care. Her sudden return has just boggled people, she just arrived a few days before you came back, you know. Last time I heard, she has been living with a girlfriend in Hastings. I even heard that she proposed and was turned down, no one’s really sure but that’s our best guess.” Catherine recollected.

“How do you know all these things?” Ann was fascinated with her cousin’s knowledge.

“People.” Catherine smiled.

“Well, you and your people should stop spreading gossip.” Ann warned.

“You can read everything online nowadays, you know. Do you even know anything about her?” Catherine probed.

“Exactly, I don’t know anything about her, so better to keep mum about the matter, right?” Ann answered.

“Well, you asked about her in the first place. I just told you want I heard. Why are you so interested anyway?” Catherine’s eyes glowed with a certain realization. “You fancy her! Do you?”

“I do not…” Ann was in denial but a blush crept through her cheeks.

“Oh, Ann! Have you been crushing on Anne Lister?” Catherine grasped. “Don’t you think it’s quite weird, you’re half her age, right?” Catherine added.

“I’m not half her age!” Ann defended. “She’s actually just ten years older.” She supplemented.

“Hah! You calculated!” Catherine jested. “Anyway, ten years is not much these days, probably all the more hundreds of years ago. They had child brides for crying out loud. But seriously, I have not thought of Anne Lister before. It was just a bit creepy that you were a baby back then when she was already out there having her first kiss but now that you’ve fully grown, I think it makes sense now.” Catherine quipped.

“You are so full of crap.” Ann laughed, trying to mask her awkwardness.

“Honestly Ann, seeing Anne Lister now, I guess she just gets sexier with time. Some women are like that I think, sexier as they age. I think Ann’s like that. Probably like how I would definitely tap Liam Neeson or Daniel Craig, yeah, I’d tap that.” Catherine teased further.

“Whatever you say.” Ann just rolled her eyes. 

* * *

“I like your ideas, Thomas, just what we need.” Anne was browsing through the various sketches of the interiors mounted on an easel stand inside the restaurant.

They have decided to close the inn starting that day. Anne and Marian had decided to update it as a bed and breakfast, Anne would look into a more traditional menu and the interiors will be improved based on Thomas’ suggestions and Anne’s vision.

“Let’s keep the floor boards here at the restaurant; these babies are older than my father. But can you just sand this to reveal its natural color and just polish it again?” Anne suggested, Thomas just nodded in agreement. “Also, I would like a more spacious bar; I’ll probably hire a more decent bartender. Marian and Sam just stuffed this place with pilsners. I would probably have several types of ales here and maybe some outlandish craft beers to add. We would also probably need a signature drink. Make sure two people can fit back there and there will be enough space to mix. Let’s also consider a better sound system and perhaps two flat screens, one behind the bar and another one near the main dining area. Plus, I would like to see the leather samples before you choose anything. You can also add a merchandise cabinet by the waiting area.” Anne continued.

“I would be heading to the Rawson’s showroom to pick out furniture options.” Thomas informed.

“Ow, don’t forget to ask if they do custom work. I would like some custom work, you can whip up something; custom light fixtures would be nice too.” Anne realized as she examined the ceiling.

“So, for our centerpiece, would you prefer this sculptural piece for that wall or perhaps a mural?” Thomas pointed out at the vast wall by the series of booths. 

“Probably not a sculpture that might just accumulate dust and fall on people’s food. I would prefer a mural or an edgy wallpaper perhaps.” Anne pondered. “If we do go for a mural, do you have an artist in mind?”

“Well, I know a guy based in London…” Thomas advised.

“I’d stop you right there” Anne interjected. “I think I’m not in the mood of hosting someone for now, do you know any local artists in Halifax?”

“Well, let’s see, I know some but I’m not quite confident that they can pull off a mural.” Thomas considered.

Anne and Thomas were silent for a while, until Thomas had a sudden realization.

“I have an idea” Thomas fumbled for his phone and he started scrolling. “Ann Walker is in town, have you seen her work?”

Thomas began browsing through Ann Walker’s portfolio, Anne was nothing but mesmerized, she never did have the curiosity for Ann Walker’s work nor did she remember the poor girl when she saw her yesterday.

“I’m not sure if she accepts commissions as of the moment. Also, this would be a rush work, I heard she’s back to work in her studio. I’m not also sure if she does murals but she does have massive pieces. Some critics have likened her work to that of Rothko’s.” Thomas shared excitedly.

As they continued to browse through Ann’s portfolio, Anne became intrigued even more. There was a sense of alienation in Ann’s pieces but there was much emotion that would draw you in into her work, it’s like catching a glimpse of what she was feeling at that very moment. Anne knew that at that moment, she just wasn’t interested in reconnecting with the woman, it’s that she had a wrong impression of Ann Walker. She was no tool, she was interesting and Anne was charmed.

“So, should I go talk to her?” Thomas offered.

“No, Thomas” Thomas got a bit disappointed at Anne’s immediate answer. “I would go talk to her myself.” Anne offered instead and Thomas couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think so far, I have a few chapters outlined and hoping to finish this fic as soon as possible since I might not be able to get back to it as often once regular work hours starts again.


	3. And Now You and Me are on our Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll do it!” Ann answered immediately.
> 
> “You will?” Anne smiled at the thought. “But we haven’t talked about the details yet.”
> 
> “We can discuss it after, I’ll do it but I couldn’t start right away though. I need to finish a couple of things and then I’m all yours…” Ann was starting to ramble.

* * *

Anne was up late, the only light from her room was from her laptop and the soft glow of her desk lamp. She slumped back to her ergo chair, before her were a lot of documents, the books from Marian, she had to go over Thomas’ plans, and a list of Samuel’s assessments of the infrastructure and the people that they needed to hire for the construction work and the inn staff thereafter. Anne adjusted the sleeves of her black wool sweater, she extended it to her palms and she rubbed her face with her palms irritably. She could not deny the fact that she was losing her nerve now, all the expenses, all the planning, and all the work. It feels like she was drowning and she couldn’t breathe and no one is there to pull her up.

She needed something to calm her down, so she went back to the search engine and typed _Ann Walker._ She didn’t know what she was looking for, all she knows is that at that very moment, she was drawn to her. She does not remember much about this teenager who lost her parents at such a young age. She just knew that Ann was Liz’s little sister; there was a moment when she thought that Elizabeth Walker seemed attractive. But there wasn’t more to it, she was just probably a little bit drunk in one of those high school parties when she encountered the older Walker. Plus, she wasn’t really into blondes, she had an affair or two, but it was just purely physical. Though she wouldn’t admit it, she had certain prejudice against the Walker sisters, she just thought they were too “Stepford Wives” material. Yes, just like in the satirical thriller where perfect looking women as perfect housewives seem too good to be true. Anne wanted someone aggressive, someone to argue with, even someone to fight dominance with at bed; she had never thought of Ann Walker in that way. She’s not even sure if she was into women, not that it mattered to her. The day she saw Ann again, she saw that jovial stride, those seemingly innocent-looking eyes, the charming smile; she just looked so delicate.

She was then directed back to Ann Walker’s website with her portfolio. She browsed through her works; a series of forlorn pieces based on the colors and the strokes. She read the titles and descriptions, one read: _The Descent of Icarus._ It was a black and white abstract painting with seemingly fierce lines dropping into the ground like a meteorite. Anne could feel the force from those lines, the presumably unimpeded fall from the sky, deteriorating rapidly as it hits the ground, shedding and violently grasping for air, reaching out but everything seem to happen too fast for Icarus to gauge. It is the same feeling when you realize that you have lost everything, but you are forced to carry on, less tethered to what was once your rock. At that very moment, Anne realized that there was more to Ann Walker. She was not just a pretty face; she should probably give her more merit. Perhaps she has more facets than Anne had initially perceived.

She browsed some more and she stumbled upon an article about Ann Walker, “her art seem to speak another language; the lines and colors are the words, the strokes are speech. It is like an enchantment; it lifts you, shakes you, and wakes you to certain realities that you dare not speak of” It was written by a critic named John Horner. Yes indeed, at this point, Anne is nothing but enchanted.

* * *

It was a warm afternoon but Ann had decided to still take her green tea, she needed it to calm down. She had been immersed in her work for two days straight, she contemplates of finishing her work tomorrow. She hasn’t made up her mind with its title though, she’s certain that it would surely come to her once it is finished. She sits atop the step-ladder, she had a work shirt on; it’s actually more of an oversized grey t-shirt with cut-off sleeves tainted with various paint colors. Her black bra strap is exposed on one shoulder, the other end of the t-shirt falls to one side emphasizing Ann’s small frame. She hasn’t washed her hair yet, so she simply bundles it in a yellow bandana. She’s walking around barefoot in her studio once again in just another loose pair of dark denim pants. She sips her tea from a blue and white porcelain cup as she examines her work. _Perhaps it needs more yellow_ , she contemplates.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang from the main house, breaking her from stupor. Ann wondered, _who could it be?_ Surely, she wasn’t expecting any deliveries as of the moment. It couldn’t be Catherine either, she has her own set of keys, she just barges in as she pleases. The bell rings again, she’s not sure if James, their caretaker can hear it from the back. He has been busy setting up their tropical garden for the main house. At this point, Ann decides to rush to the door herself, she runs barefoot from the studio to the main house. She pauses at the foyer, examines herself by the full length mirror, tries to straighten herself a bit. It’s probably just one of her cousins or nosy aunts. As Ann finally opens the door, she’s stunned by who she sees. 

“Hello, Ann!” It was no other than Anne Lister, her chin-length dark brown hair was being blown by the soft breeze. She wore a black shirt with sleeves folded up to her elbows, she noticed a faint scar that runs along Anne’s right arm, from the tip of her elbow down to her wrist. The first two buttons of her shirt are popped open, revealing smooth sun-kissed skin. Ann tried to remove herself from that line of thought. She realized that Anne was wearing black again, she has never seen her wear any other color except for black. She also wore very form-fitting jeans, this left nothing much to the imagination. Again, Ann tried to eradicate that imagining.

Ann manages to contain a gasp, it couldn’t be. _Why on earth is Anne Lister in her front door?_ In the most inconvenient time of all, when she definitely looks her worst.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Anne Lister looks at her from head to toe but this was not with partiality; she was lingering. Anne looked quite unnerved perhaps due to Ann’s frozen state. Anne continues to examine Ann, she notes her work clothes, how sexy she looks in those clothes. _Oh dear, she must be painting,_ Anne scolds herself. Now, she wouldn’t be able to shake away the image of Ann’s exposed shoulders from her thoughts.

“Oh shucks, I’m sorry…hello, Anne!” Ann was searching for words, she tried to hide her excitement. Her stomach is churning again, she feels like she’s going to barf. But she swallows hard, she can’t embarrass herself in front of Anne Lister. “Can I help you with anything?” Ann scrunched her eyebrows, she remained plastered on the entryway.

“If I’m not imposing, is it okay to come in?” Anne tried to be charming, flashing a confident smile.

“Yes, how silly of me, come in, come in!” Ann moved away from the threshold and motioned for Anne to follow her into the foyer. Anne couldn’t help but notice that Ann was walking around barefoot, they had granite floors after all.

“Thank you, I hope this is not a bad time. I hope I am not intruding.” Anne tried to be as pleasant as possible; she could sense the nervousness from Ann’s voice. She does know how to play this game; the lure of hide and seek, the push and pull. She’s been doing this for a long time.

“Of course, it’s not a bad time as a matter of fact, I’m just taking a bit of a break from my work.” Ann was a bit out of breath, she doesn’t know if it was because of all the running or the fact that Anne Lister was standing so close to her in the foyer. If she takes another step back, her hips would already touch the console table behind them. She was close enough to notice her scent. It was aromatic like some exotic fruit; fresh and warm, like laundry; it was inebriating. Whereas, Ann feared that she smelled like wood and turpentine.

“Surely, you do remember me?” Anne moved closer to Ann, she noticed that the latter took a step back.

“Of course, I passed by Shibden… a few days ago but you and Marian seemed to be rather occupied, so I decided to run along.” Ann reasoned, she chastised herself for stuttering. 

“Gosh, it has been such a long time has it, since we last spoke to each other.” Anne recalled with a sheepish smile.

“It was twelve years ago” Ann supplied. “When you visited during my parents’ wake,” She added rather a bit despondently.

“Sorry, I guess it’s not a good memory,” Anne realized that she had uncovered old wounds but she noted the fact that Ann was very precise.

“Don’t worry, all is well now.” Ann gave a soft smile. “Anyway, how can I be of service?” Her voice had more enthusiasm.

The mood became somber but Ann’s reaction had brought it back to a lighter tone.

“Ah, of course, I suppose you have heard that we are working on some renovations for Shibden Inn” Anne explained. “You see, we are looking into starting fresh” Ann couldn’t help but notice that Anne was looking at her neck as she emphasized the last word.

“Yes, my cousin has told me about the renovations. I usually visit the pub whenever I’m home,” Ann replied with a gulp.

“Of course,” Anne flashed a seductive smile. “So, we’re planning on updating the space and I have hired Thomas Sowden to help me out with the design. We discussed a much needed conversation piece in the main dining area and he has suggested that we include a sculpture or a mural,” Anne elucidated as she locked eyes with Anne. Anne was clearly sunk into Ann’s cerulean eyes.

At this point, Ann had a problem concentrating with what Anne Lister was saying due to the tension building up in her stomach. She knew what Anne was going to ask for but she remained mum. She felt like she could not afford to embarrass herself in front of Anne.

“I asked him if he knew any local artists in Halifax because I didn’t want to bring in someone from another place, realizing that this is going to be a rushed work,” Anne continued. “Let’s say he recommended you,” Anne once again emphasized the last word.

“But I don’t… I don’t typically do murals,” Ann was quick to respond but the sooner she spoke, the sooner she regretted it. It was in fact the truth, working with plaster on a different surface is a different matter entirely but it’s nothing that she couldn’t handle. How can she pass up working with Anne Lister? Was the tension too much to bear?

“I understand, but Thomas says that your pieces are typically big,” Anne looks at Ann’s eyes once again, then her torso, then back to her eyes. If Ann was not mistaken, didn’t Anne just lick her lips? Surely, she would feel objectified and harassed at this point, but coming from Anne Lister, she felt nothing but a horrible ache at the pit of her stomach.

“Yes…they certainly are,” Ann was stuttering now, “but I don’t know if I can manage a mural.”

“With due respect, I have seen your body of work…” There was a brief pause and a smile, “Well, online that is and I think you are thinking less of yourself, Ms. Walker,” Anne paused again. “But I get it, you have your reasons. I can see that this is probably a bad time; I think I do not wish to mess up your momentum as you look so inspired with what you are working with at the moment. I can’t blame you, I can’t just drop such an offer, especially something pressed for time,” Anne showed some disdain. “What was I thinking?” She mumbled to herself. “Of course, I’m not even sure if I can afford you for a commission. You probably have a lot on your plate as we speak. I really am sorry, I think I have wasted your time, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Anne prepared to take a leave.

“Oh no, that’s not it.” Ann eventually grabbed Anne by her shoulder. _How else can she salvage this conversation?_ “Our families are old friends; surely, I can help out. Also, you shouldn’t think so highly of me,” Anne immediately answered in her defense.

“Oh no, please do not think that this is my way of shortchanging you,” Anne muttered. “No gimmicks, I really do have high respect for artists. I’m a chef, what you do with pigment or any media, we do with food.” She added for good measure.

“I know that, Anne,” Ann scrunched her forehead once again. “Perhaps we have started this conversation in the wrong foot. May I invite you for some tea in my studio and perhaps we can talk about this project some more?” Ann finally offered.

“If you insist,” Anne smiled.

Anne Lister followed her as they walked towards the covered pathway that led to her studio. Ann had a big smile on her face as they went. 

* * *

Ann sat comfortably on the sofa next to Anne Lister; they were about half a meter apart with attention fully directed at each other. Anne would cross and then uncross her legs several times, as she talked. She held the porcelain cup delicately; Ann observed her long and slender fingers. Ann couldn’t help but wonder about the things that Anne could do with those hands. Ann tried not to fidget at her seat; the uncomfortable sensation at the pit of her stomach hasn’t left her. She should not imagine such things, not at this moment.

They talked about many things, places they visited, books they’ve read, food from the exotic to the most ordinary, artists and their remarkable lives and of course some thoughts regarding the past.

“How come we have never talked before until now?” Anne queried.

“I suppose you’ve never seen passed me as a snotty kid,” Ann joked.

“C’mon, I don’t think I am that intimidating,” Anne quipped.

“Well, you are, you're always confident, just so you know. Probably, we’re always just at different stages in our lives at certain points.” Ann answered without looking directly at Anne.

“Of course, I was already in university while you were just leaving middle school, how old are you, anyway? 27? 29?” Anne asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Thirty-one, just last April,” Ann replied without hesitation.

“Perfect, we are just a decade apart!” Anne jibed. “Good thing I am not old enough to be your mother,” She took a sip of her tea. Ann just giggled at the thought.

“I was always Liz’s little sister, well to most people,” Ann spoke with a bit of aloofness.

“Have you always seen yourself in that way?” Anne tried not to feel sorry for her.

“Well, that or as the poor orphan child after our parents died,” Ann replied. “But enough about my sad past,” She tried to change the topic.

“Oh dear, is that the time?” Anne just looked at her wristwatch. It was plain and silver, functional, nothing flashy, Ann noted.

“We’ve been talking for about four hours,” Ann jumped from her seat as soon as she saw the wall clock. “Oh gosh, I’ve kept you for some time.”

_Well, you can keep me for good._ Anne thought to herself, she had to admit she was quite enamored. It’s just that this afternoon, she just figured how well-read Ann Walker is. She was also profound and her values were on point, and, she is very talented, not a tool at all, Marian was right.

“I guess we talked about a lot of things but not really what I came here for.” Anne realized. “I’ve taken so much of your time.”

“No, not at all. I very much enjoyed talking to you. It’s not every day that I meet someone who understands.” Ann couldn’t help but point out the connection.

“I think I really have to go in a bit,” Anne looked at her watch again. “Maybe we can talk about the project some other time, then…”

“I’ll do it!” Ann answered immediately.

“You will?” Anne smiled at the thought. “But we haven’t talked about the details yet.”

“We can discuss it after, I’ll do it but I couldn’t start right away though. I need to finish a couple of things and then I’m all yours…” Ann was starting to ramble.

“Thank you!” Anne did not hesitate in giving her a firm hug. What happened after caught Ann by surprise, in the heat of the moment, Anne gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. It wasn’t anything uncomfortable, it was instantaneous, and most of all affectionate.

“Don’t worry, we won’t start until some of the construction is underway. You’ll have a couple of weeks and we need to still discuss this and iron out some details.” Anne informed, she still held Ann by the shoulders.

“Uhm, so we’ll see each other then?” Ann confirmed.

“I’ll see you on Monday? We can meet at the inn, so you can survey the place. Is lunch good for you?” Anne inquired.

“Looking forward to it,” Ann knew that it wasn’t a date, it was work but she couldn’t help but feel any less than eager about it.

“So, I’ll see you then?” Anne got up, preparing to take a leave.

“Of course, I’ll walk you to the front door” They both got up and headed towards the entryway.

Ann didn’t know how to bade Anne farewell. Should they shake hands? Would an air kiss on the cheeks suffice? Would she wave?

“It was great to finally know you, Ann.” Anne made things easier for her. Anne approached her and gave her another tight hug. She could smell her perfume again; it was intoxicating. Then as Anne withdrew, she reached for Ann’s left hand and planted a soft kiss. As Anne let go of her hand, Ann felt the tingling sensation in her stomach again. This time she wasn’t going to barf, she just felt light-headed.

“See you!” Ann waved as Anne headed towards her car parked just outside the Walker’s property.

Ann Walker was smitten.

Anne Lister was optimistic.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kind words and interest in my work based on the comments from the past couple of chapters that I posted. Will try to keep up and post diligently, until then!


	4. The Home of a Friend of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fascinating, you’re right, Ms. Walker. You have always managed to surprise me.” Anne muttered.
> 
> “We have gone over this, Ms. Lister, I am more than meets the eye, so stop patronizing me.” Ann smiled knowingly.

* * *

Anne looked at the blank wall.

It categorically remains as a blank wall, a clean slate, something she needed the most. It was a still Sunday afternoon; a few days from now the renovation would take its course. It played like a metaphor in her mind. She needed to shake off some baggage, strings that have been pulling upon her or had been keeping her dangling for such a long time. _So, it’s just like that,_ she chuckled to herself. You can definitely just drop everything and leave, forget about everything else. She wonders about her flat in Hastings, how she has left it in such disarray. There was no point in going back there now; the flat prompts so many painful memories. Half-empty shelves, broken objects, cold surfaces; she could not stomach looking at vacant spaces.

_It was two days after Vere had left her; she has somehow managed to keep on working. She would try to stay polite with the customers, asking them about their meals, making sure that she was still on top of her game. Her co-workers noticed the abnormality. The commis chef, line chefs, the dishwashers, and wait staff observed that she was less sullen, but they were unnerved with her robotic responses. There was no shouting, no glares, no hecklings; she would simply return cold plates and overcooked portions without much mocking. It arrived to a point that she would hastily prepare a risotto in place of an undercooked one instead of screaming at a line cook. Without Anne’s usual temperamental outbursts, her kitchen was a dry desert of sentiments with reservations masked beneath the clanging or pots and pans. Her sous chef, John Booth tried to placate the inquiries; the staff knew that there was something wrong with haughty Anne Lister, haughty was their normal._

_No one dare speak to Anne about it. They did not want to be caught in a middle of a crossfire unarmed. Until one windy afternoon, prior to the dinner service, when Anne was broken from her melancholy by nothing but a dead lobster. Lobsters were always such a gargantuan task. Putting a live lobster to its death by blast freezing and boiling it in a pot of water may be challenging and heartless, but even until death, it proves to be such a menace. It takes such skill and precision to prepare a cooked lobster. From twisting it claws and legs in the right places, to accurately cutting it from the junction of its head to its tail, to removing some parts and making sure that its flesh is extracted properly is like a well-choreographed dance. Anne was too far gone in her thoughts by the time that she realized how the blade had bounced from the lobsters shell to the back of her arm when she moved to cut it in reverse. Everything happened too fast, she had slit her arm with the cleaver that slipped her grip. Suddenly, the dead lobster on a wooden chopping block was covered in red._

_“Goodness, chef!” Realizing what happened, the sous chef, John rushed to her aid._

_Anne was quick enough to hold her arm when the cleaver when clanging on the immaculately white tiled kitchen floor, now tainted with drops of red._

_“Can you call for an ambulance!” John yelled at the other staff who looked quite stunned. The dishwasher was quick enough to gather his senses and ran to the reception._

_John speedily took a washcloth and placed some pressure on Anne’s wound._

_Anne just blacked out; she just remembered waking up in a dingy hospital room with stitches on her right arm to cover a cut that was about four inches long. The cut wasn’t deep but it was long, it ran from the end of her wrist up until just about a few inches shy of her elbow._

_A week after the incident, Anne turned in her resignation letter with two weeks’ notice._

Anne held on to her right arm, the scar was very much visible. The empty wall in front of her is nothing but a blank space. It somehow evokes certain possibilities, new opportunities or perhaps risks. She never thought of the consequences when she packed her bags and left. She had a life set for herself with Vere, and just like that, she had awakened from a dream.

She thought about her flat again; she didn’t know if she’ll stay in Halifax, but definitely she will not return to Hastings. _After I secure the inn_ , _I would probably need to think about the flat, might put it up for lease or sale_ , she thought to herself. Everything was unknown at this point but one thing is for sure, Halifax is a blank canvas, there would be no baggage to shake off. She would be able to start from scratch. Now, she was convinced that the inn was indeed a metaphor.

* * *

It was a fine Monday morning; Ann decided to take a quiet stroll to Shibden Inn. She donned a crisscross back tiered dress, its length just right above her knees. It had a floral print, a sprinkle of irises and delicate leaves. It showed off her shoulders, sternum and arms just fine. She also carried a navy parasol; she used it as a cane as she walked. Her hair was set in a bubble ponytail, her freckles evident on her shoulders and cheeks. She had such delight in her stride, if she could skip her way to the inn, she would. _It was just a lunch meeting, strictly, business, nothing personal_ , Ann chastised herself, but she couldn’t help but feel rather giddy about it. As her sandal-clad feet got her in front of Shibden Inn, Ann took a few moments to breathe. Here she was, about to meet Anne Lister yet again, she should probably refrain from making a fool of herself. She knew that Anne’s first impression on her were not all too well a decade ago but things are different now, they somehow hit it off a few days ago.

As Anne left Ann’s studio that evening, she went back to her work like a lunatic. All of Sunday was spent sleeping in; since she was able to finish the piece, she was working until dawn. She needed to make sure that everything was out of the way, she wanted to make room for one Anne Lister. That had something to do with clearing her schedule for the next month or so. She was not behind for her next exhibition; she was actually a bit ahead, given her frenzy a few days ago. So, here she is, about to enter the inn, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

Bells chimed as Ann pushed the heavy oak doors open. Her senses were immediately engulfed by the scent of freshly brewed coffee. The inn was already closed for the time being, there were no guests, and the small lobby and reception counter was empty. The lose furniture in the main dining area, the tables and chairs were already tucked on top of one another. Some of the furniture were covered with extra-large black cloths. The small bar and perhaps the kitchen remained intact. Anne could guess that there was probably someone out back, there was some noise behind the pair of Prussian blue swinging doors that led to the kitchen.

“Hello?” Ann approached the bar and peaked though the glass panel behind it.

“Ann, is that you?” A muffled voice answered from behind the panel. “Just a minute.”

“Yes, it’s me.” Ann responded.

She tapped her fingers nervously on the wooden countertop. She stood in between two bar stools, her other hand still held her parasol.

“Hey, there.” Anne eventually emerged behind the swinging doors. She looked relaxed; she had a plain black t-shirt on, in a French tuck, a pair of dark denim trousers, and brown leather sneakers. Anne looked very casual; a black apron was tied to her slim waist. Ann couldn’t help but note that Anne was wearing a pair of semi-rimless glasses; it didn’t make her look older. In fact, it made her look dapper, which Ann found rather sexy. Her hair was tied in a neat bun. “I didn’t know you would be a bit early.” Anne looked at her watch.

“Oh dear, I am indeed a few minutes early.” Ann realized, perhaps she was definitely bouncing her way to the inn. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, not at all. This is a good problem, in fact not a problem at all. But if you don’t mind, lunch will be ready in maybe ten minutes.” Anne Lister smiled rather too sheepishly for her awareness.

"I didn't know you wore glasses." Ann realized that she managed to speak her thoughts out loud.

"Ow, these spectacles, I usually have them lying around. I never fancied contact lenses, but had to wear them from time to time. I usually get fogged up glasses from the steam of the kitchen. But today's a lazy day for me." Anne Lister explained with a wink.

"I see," Was all Ann could manage. Whenever the glasses fall off and just hang above Anne's nose, Ann would get this sensation at the pit of her stomach. Anne didn't look stern, she looked smart, confident; someone Ann would definitely want to impress. She never really understood her attraction to older women, her sister Elizabeth noted that it was probably due to their mother's lack of attention towards Ann in the past. Surely, she does not think this is some obsessive love disorder. It is just that she finds some people her age to be quite petty. And she has never experienced that with older people, especially if they start treating her with equal respect. She had crushes with a handful of her university professors, but none of them could rattle her like Anne Lister, she just had that effect.

“Perhaps you would like a drink, or maybe a cup of coffee? I have a pot ready, just that I kinda slept in and skipped breakfast altogether.” Anne explained. In fact, she was up all night going over the plans for the inn and maybe she was also a bit sleepless at some point. She was as if a child excited for a field trip, restless even when she shuts her eyes. “Let’s eat first before we get into the business talk.”

“Of course, I would like a cup.” Ann nodded in agreement.

“Would you like to be comfortable in the booth there or stay here by the bar? Pardon the disarray, Sam and Tom are in the process of storing some items already and clearing the space for the demolition of some areas tomorrow.” Anne explained.

“I can stay here by the bar for a while.” Ann got up on one of the bar stools.

“Here.” Anne handed her a cup of black coffee, she also slid a sugar bowl in front of Anne. “I don’t know how you take it, would you like some cream with that?” Anne inquired.

“No, thank you, no cream. I take my coffee black, sometimes without sugar.” Ann explained as she took a sniff of the warm liquid.

“Oh, I never pegged you for a black coffee kind of girl.” Anne jested.

“And how did you peg me, Ms. Lister?” Ann raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know maybe a latte or sugar with more sugar and whipped cream kind of girl, just like how the cool kids take their coffee, with loads of sprinkles and all.” Anne teased.

“You really do have your prejudices against me, Ms. Lister,” Ann huffed. “This is how coffee should be, otherwise, how would you take it? That’s just milk and sugar with a dash of coffee, what you are referring to. You really don’t know me at all.”

“Exactly, and from now on, probably that is my mission. Finding out what you fancy, that is.” Anne insinuated.

“Stick around and maybe you’ll find out.” Ann couldn’t help to bat her eyes as she took a sip from the cup.

There was a pregnant pause between them. Their eyes simply locked, no words between them, just pure realization of a blossoming attraction. The friendly banter had lightened the mood, but Ann couldn’t deny the tingling feeling that she keeps on having.

“Alright then, if you may excuse me, lunch will be served shortly.” Anne excused herself as she headed back to the kitchen.

* * *

After a short while, they were comfortably seated in one of the booths now. Servings or roast beef, some Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, and vegetables on the table between them.

“It’s not anything that I am used to serving but it’s what I could do with the supplies left in the pantry.” Anne enjoined.

“A typical British lunch, yum!” Ann remarked. “I find it rather earnest.”

“Earnest?” Anne questioned as she passed the potatoes to Ann.

“You know, something like this, traditional but sincere. I mean with the weather outside, the quiet Halifax morning, this meal is perfect.” Ann pronounced as she took a bite of her vegetables.

Anne observed Ann from across the table, she thought about picking her mind with the menu that she had planned for Shibden.

“This is typically not in the menu, is it? I had a couple of lunches here before.” Ann noted.

“Yeah, what did you have?” Anne asked.

“Well, some pasta, it wasn’t too bad.” Ann said nonchalantly.

“I’m guessing it was bad.” Anne hinted.

“Well, Shibden is not an Italian restaurant isn’t it?” Ann reasoned.

“Yes, indeed it is not.” Instead of being offended, Anne simply smiled at Ann’s candor. “Well, if you would like to help me out. What would you prefer Shibden serve perhaps?”

Ann pointed at here meal. “Something exactly like this and probably a Sunday roast during the weekends.”

“Something traditional?” Anne was a bit taken aback.

“If you call it that. But I think something familiar, what is to be expected. I mean I would walk into Shibden and probably expect fish and chips, bangers and mash, a full English breakfast or maybe a steak and kidney pie to go. You know, something to satiate my cravings. You know how you can probably have Thai food in London but it would never taste the same unless you had it in the streets of Bangkok? So, why would you serve ravioli or ramen in place called Shibden?” Ann elucidated.

“Didn’t we just talk about prejudices? What about stereotypes and trying to be creative?” Anne countered.

“Not everyone is as worldly as some of us, Ms. Lister. Some people just want what they understand, it may not typically work with people but it does with food, I think.” Ann defended her point.

“You do have a point.” Anne pondered.

“I mean sure, you would want to draw in tourists but you would want the locals to sustain you, too. Some people would just want ginger beer and gin with their fish and chips, there’s no crime in that. Plus, whenever tourists visit the place, they would always want to sample some local delicacy.” Ann pointed out.

“Fascinating, you’re right, Ms. Walker. You have always managed to surprise me.” Anne muttered.

“We have gone over this, Ms. Lister, I am more than meets the eye, so stop patronizing me.” Ann smiled knowingly.

* * *

They looked at the blank wall.

“So, after the floors are repolished and the banquet seating is refurbished, this space is going to be ready for you to work in.” Anne discussed.

“Hmm, so it’s fourteen feet by five feet,” Ann retracted the steel tape measure. She carefully examined the material of the wall surface at the main dining area.

“How much time would you think you’ll need?” Anne inquired.

“Depends on how much time you’ll give me.” Ann slurred.

Anne tried not to read too much into that response.

“Well, it might take them probably two weeks to prepare this space, that’s before you get uninterrupted time and when this area is rid of dust.” Anne explains.

“I usually work alone, so this might take me about more than two weeks or so, that is if you allow me to work overtime.” Ann supposed.

“Overtime?” Anne asked.

“Well, I do admit that I am a bit temperamental and since the mural is set here, not like a canvas that I can take to my studio, I would probably spend some nights working in late with a certain level of calm.” Ann requested.

“Of course, I guess we can arrange that.” Anne noted.

“Thank you. Anyway, do you know what it is that you want? I saw Thomas’ sketches of the place, but I would like to know what you think.” Ann considered.

“I was hoping that you would help me with that,” Anne acknowledged. “You see, this is not just some routine maintenance. We plan to reinvent ourselves, start fresh, and build a new image.”

Ann remained quiet; Anne could imagine that the cogs in her beautiful mind were already working.

“Honestly, I haven’t thought of anything yet, just that. Just that I need people to have a renewed interest in this place.” Anne emphasized.

“Anne, would you mind if I ask you a favor?” Ann asked.

“Anything.” Anne replied.

“With my work, I usually wait for the feeling or rather inspiration to hit. I’m very much adjusting to a commissioned work arrangement. I just want to understand what you want further, to get a better grip of what Shibden is to you. With predispositions aside, I don’t want this to end up like a cliché. So, if you won’t mind, is it okay if I spend the following week just knowing you?” Anne was surprised with Ann’s process but she somehow understood where she was coming from.

“Knowing me?” Anne clarified.

“Yes, just to figure out what really suits this place? Call it research if you must.” Ann elucidated.

“And what does this research entail, Ms. Walker?”

Ann simply replied with an awkward grin.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive feedback for the previous chapters. It is definitely a slow burn, so savor the pace with me.


	5. It's a Good Thing that You Came Along with Me (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Must I always be waiting, waiting on you?
> 
> Must I always be playing, playing your fool?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter for posting today. Thank you so much for reading this fic.

* * *

The renovation of Shibden Inn has started. Anne was put out of commission on the first day. The demolition of the old bar counters, the stripping of the lacquered floors, and the sanding of the surfaces has resulted to nothing but a whirlwind of dust and debris. Hinchcliffe’s workers came in with masks and protective gear together with their power tools. Samuel and Thomas would be there to supervise them but Anne couldn’t help but drop by at the site. Not that she was micromanaging but she just felt that it was somewhat ceremonial. Marian accompanied her, but after a few hours have passed and the dust particles started to spread in the air, Anne Lister was in a bad state. Sneezing with a runny nose and puffy eyes, Marian fought with her to drag her home. That’s how Anne Lister discovered that she was very much allergic to sawdust. Hours later, she was at home from a nearby clinic, groggy from an anti-histamine shot.

After a deep slumber for two hours, Anne felt a little bit better, but she was forbidden to return to the construction site. Thomas emphasized that Anne would need to wait up until they finish all the sanding and plastering before she visits. Marian suggested that she should occupy herself with other things and entrust the construction work with Thomas, Anne conceded, it wasn’t worth arguing for. So, that very afternoon, she proceeded to work on the menu instead.

A little bit sluggish, Anne put on a dark silk kimono as a robe over her set of pinstriped pajamas and sat in the reception room. The Lister house had old-fashioned bones but a contemporary spirit. The walls were lined with a pair of gold-leafed mirrors, had a lacquer wall finish that add luster to cozy leather sofas, patterned cushions and vintage sideboards. An antique table lamp provides a dim silhouette when the blinds are shut, two coronation stools in original upholstery, and a French revival fireplace complete the scene. She took out her glasses and a blank notepad, she should start brainstorming for her new menu. Anne started writing down, _cheese, tripe, liver…_ when suddenly, Marian came in from the adjacent room.

“How are you feeling?” She approached Anne in her typical unconcerned tone, but you could sense the distress through her eyes.

“No longer wheezing, more attentive than before.” Anne answered as she continued writing.

“Then, perhaps you would be fit for some company?” Marian inquired.

Anne did not feel like bantering with her sister at that point, but before she could muster a reply, Marian was quick to add, “Ann Walker’s here to see you.”

“Really?” Anne did not expect that.

“Should I show her in then?” Marian wondered.

“Well, I am not contagious, am I?” Anne’s haughtiness was back, indeed, she was feeling better.

Marian left without fuss, just a look of contempt reserved only for her sister.

Without much delay, Ann Walker emerged at the doorway. She wore a loose blue plaid shirt and a pair of khaki trousers, the tresses on her hair dropped to her shoulders. Her complexion rather rose-colored, perhaps she had walked from her home again. “Hey,” she greeted timidly.

“Hey Ann, what brings you in this side of town?” Anne gets up as she ushers Ann further into the room.

Ann took notice of Anne’s state, in comfortable wear, the redness around her nose now less evident, neither coughing nor wheezing. “I dropped by at the inn earlier but Sam told me you went home due to some allergic reaction. I see that you are well, anything else that you might need?” Ann supplied as Anne gestured for her to sit down on the club chair opposite hers.

“Perhaps judging by how I look I’m feeling a bit better, nothing that anti-histamine couldn’t get rid of. Just that I am not allowed there for a while, am currently barred from any interaction with that site until the sawdust dissipates. Would you like some tea?” Anne offered.

“Oh, don’t bother, I just had coffee, thank you. Also, I don't know how you manage to look elegant, even with sleep wear." Ann realized that she said that out loud. "Well then, since you are off the hook. What will you be working on for the time being?” Ann inquired a pair of hopeful eyes, trying to change the subject immediately.

“Well, currently, I am working on the new menu.” Anne pointed at her note pad.

Ann eyed the scribbles on Anne’s pad. “So, you took some of my suggestions.”

“Of course, you’re a beloved patron after all. It would be something traditional but perhaps something engaging as well.” Anne explained.

“Hmm, this includes tripe, eel, giblets, and the repulsive trio as what my family would say.” Ann read on as Anne handed the list to her across the tufted leather coffee table that also functions as an ottoman.

“It’s something familiar but would still want to surprise the crowd. I’ve gone over an article last night, these food here are almost going extinct for the British palate.” Anne shared.

“I know of a supplier who does free-range farming, would that interest you?” Ann offered.

* * *

A few days later, Anne Lister found herself driving just outside of Halifax with Ann Walker in tow. They took the Lister’s silver Range Rover with them; Anne couldn’t stop smiling as she concentrated on the road.

Jack Johnson’s _Sitting, Waiting, Wishing_ quietly droning in the car stereo as the car traversed on the asphalt road.

_Well I was sitting, waiting, wishing_

_You believed in superstitions_

_Then maybe you'd see the signs_

_Lord knows that this world is cruel_

Ann nursed a thermos full of coffee on her lap. The air was quite chilly in the morning, so she donned a dark blue university hoodie and a pair of worn-out jeans. Ann looked like a college student on a field trip. Beside her, Anne was equally casual; her hair was down, a pair of classic sunglasses, a black summer cardigan over a black t-shirt, and a pair of ripped jeans.

_And I ain't the Lord no I'm just a fool_

_And a loving somebody don't make them love you_

As Anne drove and the summer breeze hit them from the open windows, Ann gave her a coy smile and Anne beamed at her in response. The trip was unforeseen but planned, if Ann only new that walking slowly by Shibden Inn would capture Anne Lister’s attention that uneventful morning, she should have been much daring in the early years in her life. But perhaps, if she didn’t age into the adult that she is now, Anne Lister would not have noticed her then.

_Must I always be waiting, waiting on you?_

_Must I always be playing, playing your fool?_

Anne lowered the radio’s volume as the vehicle’s tires crunched on a gravel pathway, which led to a small farm. They were driving for almost an hour and despite the hush atmosphere in the car, Ann felt that it wasn’t awkward at all. For the first time, she felt comfortable with another person’s silence.

“I think we can park here.” Ann pointed at a vacant space in front of a wooden gate that read, Barlow Farm.

“Sorry if I am not so chatty in the morning,” Anne muttered as she put the vehicle to park, she raised her sunglasses to sit on her temples to get a clearer view of her surroundings. “Sometimes I think I am going blind,” Anne quipped.

“This would be a very good opportunity for an ‘old person joke’ but I think I shouldn’t, I admire you too much to even try.” Ann joked as she removed her seatbelt.

The duo hopped off from the vehicle and they were greeted warmly by a young couple. They were Ann’s age, or probably younger. The man has fair skin, is slim, red haired, had mutton chops, wore a red plaid shirt and khaki cargo pants. He stood with a pike in his hand beaming. The woman is olive-skinned; she wore a turban and a linen tunic dress. A little boy who has curly red hair and complexion same as the man was strapped to the woman’s torso in a color cloth that served as a baby carrier. They looked like a contemporary adaptation of the _American Gothic_ painting. They were a little too hipster for Anne’s liking but they were Ann’s friends, so Anne reprimanded herself for judging a little too quickly.

“Hey girl!” The man dropped the pike and Ann almost ran to him that ended in a tight embrace.

“Maria!” Anne gave the woman a side hug. “And is this much be little Avon?” The baby probably around two years of age just wriggled in place.

Anne observed them interact for a while waiting to be introduced.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just got quite excited,” Ann rushed back to Anne’s side and held on to her arm. “Uhm, this is Anne Lister, my…” Ann paused for a while.

“We’re old friends, neighbors, grew up in the same town.” Anne provided for Ann all too quickly. 

“Well, I was going to say client but that’s really quite formal, isn’t it? Thanks for the save.” Ann muttered under her breath, only for Anne to hear.

“This is Maria and her husband Emmott Barlow, we were at university together.” Ann continued the introduction.

“Oh, the namesake, I heard so much about you,” Emmott offered a firm handshake that Anne responded to.

“I hope all good things,” Anne gave Ann a knowing look, the latter just beamed awkwardly at her.

“Ms. Lister, may I call you that? I think it’s a bit formal but I easily get confused, Maria went to shake Anne’s hand.

“I don’t mind at all,” Anne leered. “Every person in our town is either an Anne, John, or a Thomas.” She added which earned a chuckle from the couple. Anne had a rather lingering look at Maria. Maria was easy on the eyes especially with her striking features. Plus, Maria was quite popular in the university, with both men and women. However, despite her faithfulness to Emmott, Maria did not mind flirting, especially if it was just for playful banter.

Ann just scoffed at Anne’s reaction, as the couple remained ingenuous; they led their guests inside the farm.

The short tour started with the couples’ free-range farm. Emmott explained how the chicken roamed freely at certain hours during the day and they were not holed up in cages like in most poultries. The farm also had cattle, which may be source for milk, beef, and most of all what Anne needed; a staple supply of tripe. Maria was in charge of the herb garden, from rosemary, to thyme, parsley, dill, and coriander, which grow best during spring and summer. They could also provide not only potatoes but also turnips, which Anne really intends to serve in the menu. Anne shared how her current managers, her sister and Sam would source supplies from a grocer from London since the inn used to have an extensive menu. They talked about impracticality and about Anne’s changing views on the quality of food. Anne has never worked with local farmers before, especially since she wanted nothing but to escape Halifax in the first place. They talked about how she wanted to change the menu and to build a network with local farmers from then on. There was some lively flirting between Maria and Anne from time to time as they went around. However, it was all in friendly light, perhaps Anne just met her match and Emmott would so gladly chime in at some point. Especially when they talked about how cows were milked. Little Avon was oblivious, eventually sleeping soundly, snuggled to his mother. Ann just blushed at the innuendos, knowing that this side of her friends was only encouraged by their guests own sense of humor.

Over lunch, Anne found out that Emmott has a degree in biology and Maria took art and was in the same class as Ann. After a few years working in Manchester, the couple decided to return to the Barlow farm after Emmott’s father died. Now, that the couple is settled with a two-year old, they plan to add another child to their brood the following year. With a pot of steak and kidney stew, fresh garden salad, and a bottle of wine, the conversation moved from what was strictly business to more of unpremeditated teasing. With little Avon now tucked in for an afternoon nap, after eating his own meal first, the two couples are sat across each other in the Barlows' outdoor dining area.

“So, Ms. Lister, Ann has finally captured your attention, eh?” Maria brought the chat in full swing. Perhaps Ann has forgotten that she has talked about this non-crush a while back, one time too many and has hinted the couple about her edginess about the visit. She was only privy with the Barlow couple, aside from her cousin and sister.

“Well, perhaps in more ways than one,” instead of being uncomfortable, Anne joined in the teasing. For whatever possessiveness that Ann felt towards Anne and Maria’s initial interaction, all of that went out of the window now.

“She has never went out of her way to visit us, our little Annie, not until now.” Emmott tolled in. “What have you done to make her come out from her little cocoon of a studio, Anne?”

“I do go get out once in a while…” Ann interjected.

“But we all know it’s only when you go out to get art supplies, dear or when you do get out, it’s in some other part of the continent.” Maria added.

“Well, I am not sure really, but I do remember pursuing her one afternoon.” Anne answered placing her arm on the back of Ann’s chair.

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s doing her some good, and at least she’s under the sun for some time.” Emmott directed at Anne.

“Yes, Ms. Lister, when you’re doing her, I hope you continue to do it well.” Maria joked causing Ann to blush as red as a tomato and to almost choke on her food in the process. Anne smiled mischievously.

“Are you okay, Ann?” Anne managed to rub Ann’s back lightly, then handing her a glass of water that she finished in one breath.

“Well, to your disappointment Mrs. Barlow, we’re still working on that,” Anne teased which caused Ann to turn purple and for the couple to giggle candidly.

* * *

They left the Barlow Farm in high spirits, of course, much to Ann’s expense. However, honestly, she enjoyed the banter, and she took note of Anne’s every quip, especially those that included having to flirt with her.

Ann offered to drive on their way back. Anne was silently shuffling through her notes as they traversed the placid roads. She placed the notepad on the cars glove compartment and inclined comfortably on her seat. Ann could sense that Anne must be a little bit sleepy, probably due to their early day. 

“Thank you,” Anne whispered from the passenger’s seat.

“For what?” Ann asked without taking her eyes from the road.

“For introducing me to the Barlows, for accompanying me today, I’m sorry about taking up your entire day.” Anne spoke softly. That flawless, confident tone always brought Ann butterflies.

“You have my time, Anne, I offered it,” Ann tried not to stutter. “After all, this is part of my research, getting to know you more, knowing your story.” She had a firm grip on the steering wheel and her other hand was unmoving on the stick.

“I had a great time,” Anne placed her hand on top of Ann’s hand on the stick shift. They almost veered off to Ann’s surprise but she regained control.

“I had never laughed that hard in a long while,” Anne shared, her hand unmoving.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, even if those laughs were at my expense.” Ann looked at Anne’s way for a split second and saw nothing but a smile plastered on her passenger’s face.

“Well, not entirely at your expense, I had to reveal about myself a bit, maybe a little too much at some point.” Anne jibed.

They both knew what Anne meant by it. Even if it were simple playful banter, Ann caught on. She knew what Anne was implying with every answer. But before she could even think of something to retort with, Anne had already closed her eyes. Her passenger was sound asleep, but her hand stayed where it was. Good thing the highway was clear, with road safety in mind, Ann tried to shift gears to the minimum, hoping that Anne wouldn’t budge even if her hand was shaky.

* * *


	6. It's a Good Thing that You Came Along with Me (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And where are you heading to at this time, Ms. Walker?” Anne queried, both her hands held Ann by the shoulder, trying to stabilize her.
> 
> “I was walking…I was going to you.” Ann slurred, tossing her hair back in a manner that made Anne weak to her knees.

* * *

“Can you browse through this?” Marian dropped a thick folder in front of Anne.

Finally, after a several days, Anne was cleared to visit the inn again. Thomas has thoroughly fixed the floors; the wooden floorboards at the main dining area were not yet polished but already dust-free. The flooring by the bar is being retiled and so was the back counter. Hinchcliffe’s crew where focused on the kitchen and bar cabinetry, cutting and sawing outside and assembling the pieces inside. Since the reception was left untouched, Anne had Thomas’ blueprints spread out on the counter. She needed to go over some details and changes. Some paint and fabric swatches were on the counter as well, she needed to approve some material choices for revisions. Anne has set up a small workplace for herself in that secluded corner. She was wearing a dust mask for good measure; she couldn’t risk having her allergies again. She was wearing a plain black baseball cap, her glasses hung over the bridge of her nose. She wore denim dungarees, a black tank top underneath, and a pair of black sneakers. She looked like she was part of the crew. Anne was signing blueprints as part of her approval for the revisions. Marian came in later with a folder in hand, donned in a salmon sweater, a pair of colorful leggings, and sneakers, she looked quite relaxed.

“What is this?” Anne pointed at the folder with a pencil she was holding without looking at Marian.

“I have narrowed down the applicants for the new staff.” Marian remarked proudly, she hopped and sat on the empty space left on the counter.

“Applicants? As in plural?” Anne wondered. “I didn’t know our job openings would be so popular.” She scoffed.

“Well, several blokes applied for the wait-staff. I narrowed it down to five applicants. But I suppose we only have one candidate for bartender so far.” Marian explained.

"Are they good-looking?" Anne joked.

"You are so superficial!" Marian reacted.

“Should I be part of the interviews? I’m busy with the menu and all this,” Anne raised an eyebrow, pointing at the blueprints in front of her.

“Well, you’ll be working with them, I suppose you’ll want a say in this. You’re the particular one.” Marian murmured.

“Let me have a look at their files.” Anne browsed through the applications quickly but taking note of certain details. “Let’s see, definitely they’ll undergo some sort of training, so I suppose we need to look out for the humble sort. I would appreciate it if they know a little bit about some foreign language that may help with tourists. In addition, we could set a probation period, just see if they crack under pressure, and test their organization and memorization skills.” Anne went on and on.

“Alright, just give me a list of qualifications; I’ll set the interviews with Sam.” Marian was already a bit overwhelmed.

“What about for the bartender?” Anne looked at the last file in the pile.

Anne looked at the photo of a fine-looking tan-skinned young woman.

“Eugenie Pierre, twenty-five years old, I think she’s French.” Marian supplied.

“You think she has a story behind her?” Anne read into her file further.

“It says she studied linguistics but dropped out. Came from Strasbourg, she’s been living here in Halifax for a year. This information is short but we can find out.” Marian pointed out.

“See if she’s magnetic; see if she has a story. I could buy a robot just to pour drinks but I would need an enigmatic bartender for conversation.” Anne thought.

“Whatever you say.” Marian took the folder with a huff and hopped off from the counter. 

“Let me know when you get this sorted out.” Anne was bossy but she was bossier with her sister. Of course, they bicker all the time, but bickering is like affection for them.

Marian was about to leave the inn, when she’s suddenly frozen in her steps. Two men came strapping in; obviously, the first one was the clean-cut and well-mannered Thomas Sowden, wearing a crisp white shirt tucked in a dark pair of pants. The other one was a stranger; he had short dark blonde hair, a clean-shaven face, and was slightly taller than Thomas was. Thomas looked lanky standing beside him. We wore a tightly fit top-dye grey t-shirt, khaki cargo pants, and had a leather pouch with hand tools attached to his belt. Marian noticed how blue his eyes were, she couldn’t help but look.

“Hey all!” Thomas greeted with a wide smile. “I see that both the Lister sisters are here.”

“Hello, Thomas,” Anne greeted without looking up. “I’m almost done with your revisions.”

“Wonderful! Ow, may I introduce Thomas Beech, he’s our master plumber and he’ll help us sort the electrical as well.” Thomas went on. “This here is our client, Anne Lister and her sister, Marian, they own Shibden.” Thomas pointed at the sisters respectively.

Anne got up to shake Thomas Beech’s hand. “So, another Thomas, I see.”

“Yes, ma’am, you can’t have too many Johns, Annes, and Thomases in this side of town.” He greeted Anne with a firm handshake. “You can call me Beech instead, just to avoid the confusion with Mr. Sowden here.” He emphasized with a smile.

“Of course, one too many, no problem with that.” Anne jested.

“Ma’am?” Beech turned to Marian to shake her hand but she remained stunned.

“Earth to Marian?” Anne waved her hand in front of her sister’s face to snap her out from her trance.

“Certainly, of course, indeed,” Marian mumbled finally accepting Thomas Beech’s hand but she did not let go immediately. Beech needed to extricate his hand slowly from Marian’s grip.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you both.” Beech bowed with a smile, he was being charming with Anne but he left Marian with a lingering stare.

“I suppose we should get going to the kitchen then, I’ll be back for the plans, Anne” Thomas Sowden motioned.

As the duo headed towards the kitchen, Marian couldn’t help but remark loudly, “I do hope there’s no problem with our pipes, Mr. Beech.”

“I’m make sure they are unclogged and drained, Ms. Marian.” Beech replied with a wink, Anne could sense his playful tone.

Marian reproached herself silently for that awkward comment. Anne was just so amused looking at her sister.

“Have you gotten any as of late, Marian?” Anne muttered as soon as the Thomases were out of earshot.

“Shut up!” Marian spat back.

“You know, even for you, pipes should be unclogged from time to time.” Anne smirked.

“Mind your own business!” Marian gave her sister a playful shove.

“Hang around long enough and you might see the ubiquitous plumbers' crack.” Anne kidded.

“You’re so full of rubbish!” Marian gave her sister one last shove and walked away pink in the face.

"Who's superficial now?" Anne yelled after her sister. She loved teasing Marian.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon, Hinchcliffe’s crew were packing up to wrap up the day. Thomas Sowden had the revised plans tucked neatly in a tracing tube. He was standing by the threshold of the inn discussing matters with Hinchcliffe, Beech, and Samuel Washington. Anne was looking at the façade of Shibden Inn; the old signage was put down for refurbishing. She had already removed the annoying mask that she was wearing the entire day, there were several times when her glasses were fogged up because of the mask. The renovations for the inn was taking shape, it won’t be long until the carpentry works will be done and Ann Walker will be able to start with the mural along with the finishing. _Ann Walker,_ Anne realized that she has never thought about her the entire day. Actually, she has never talked to her personally after their trip from Barlow Farm. It wasn’t intentional, she had sent her a few text messages days prior, she was just so focused with her work today. Ann was probably working on something else as well. Anne took out her phone from her pocket. The screen read _no new messages,_ especially from one Ann Walker. The sun was almost setting, Thomas was locking up, Anne had decided to proceed with her walk home. She didn’t take a car today, after all it seems like a cool evening, might as well enjoy a walk. She signaled at Thomas, indicating that she was going home, the trio waved at her.

Anne noticed how quiet Shibden was compared to the busy docks in Hastings where she used to work. They were some locals still immersed in animated conversation in a local café, a group of teenagers horsing around along the street, and a quaint bookstore in one corner. Despite the many changes, Halifax has maintained its old-world charm. She had been to many places, but Halifax would always have a place in her heart, it was home. She realized that she probably wouldn’t mind settling there at all.

Before Anne could take another turn in one corner, she noticed a head of blonde hair. One that she couldn’t mistake must belong to someone familiar. Walking with her head bowed, in a denim shirt and slim khaki pants was no other than Ann Walker. She seemed like she was lost in her thought, muttering to herself. Anne decided to capture her attention by blocking her path. To Anne’s surprise, Ann wasn’t quick enough to evade her and she felt her upper torso bump into Ann’s.

“I’m so sorry!” Ann exclaimed in shock but as soon as she realized who was in front of her, she looked relived.

“And where are you heading to at this time, Ms. Walker?” Anne queried, both her hands held Ann by the shoulder, trying to stabilize her.

“I was walking…I was going to you.” Ann slurred, tossing her hair back in a manner that made Anne weak to her knees.

“You could have just texted me,” Anne probed, removing her hands from Ann’s shoulders.

“Well, I just thought of dropping by to see if you were available, I was working all day and I needed a breather. I know you typically have a set schedule for your day, didn’t want to ruin it.” Anne rambled. Anne noted how adorable she looked, rambling. 

“Old fashioned, I see. I could have come to you.” Anne smiled endearingly.

“I needed a walk, plus, I didn’t want to bother you, just took my chances.” Ann was rambling again.

“Well, you seem to be my only friend here, Ann. Marian is my sister and Samuel though he is a good friend but he works with us, he’s mostly shop talk. Of course, I have time for you,” Anne explains.

“You look nice!” Ann eventually grasped what Anne was wearing.

“I’m in my work clothes.” Anne clarified.

“Well, it suits you, you look less…” Ann slurred.

“Less what?” Anne raised an eyebrow.

“Threatening…well, more welcoming, approachable,” Ann enthused.

“Less threatening? Did I look threatening?” Anne knew she was intimidating, seems to be like always on a prowl, it was her manner of protecting herself. If she were in the animal kingdom, she was a lioness. Somehow, Ann Walker has already managed to tear down several walls; this seemingly bashful woman braved her defenses. 

“Well, I like this part of you.” Anne couldn’t help to notice Ann’s smile, one that reached her eyes.

“Well, are you up for some dinner then?” Ann finally offered. “Though I’m used to it, but I would not want to dine alone tonight.” Ann tried to explain.

“You have a place in mind?” Anne delved, realizing that Ann has already looped her arm with hers.

“I know a good lobster place,” Ann motioned.

“There’s a lobster place here?” Anne was dumbfounded.

“How long have you been gone from Halifax, Ms. Lister?” Ann teased.

“Long enough not to know about this lobster place.” Anne quipped.

“Let’s go then,” Ann urged then to start walking.

Then just like that, she was going to have dinner with Ann Walker.

Anne Lister was impulsive with strangers, but she was never one for unplanned rendezvous with a friend, surely, Ann Walker was not just a friend. Anne Lister was cunning, she was calculated, she was never caught unprepared, always a step ahead. Therefore, she is astounded by how Ann Walker, unhinges her. So far, she has done nothing but to say _yes_ to this woman. Oh, how it baffles her, her weakness for Ann Walker. Surely, Marian will be furious once she texts her that she’ll be missing the fish cake dinner that she has thoroughly prepared. Anne walks the placid streets of Halifax with Ann Walker, _they were going to a lobster restaurant,_ and all she could do was add a hop on her step and scratch the long scar on her arm, hoping this will end up in better terms.

* * *

“So, you’re telling me, you got that scar in a lobster incident?” They were already being served their appetizers and wine.

The couple was seated in a table for two in a quiet corner, farthest from the door. The restaurant had low warm light, Ann felt comfortable, her blush hidden in such atmosphere. Lo-fi beats were playing in the background blending with low chatter and clicking of crockery. It was turning into a delightful unplanned evening.

“Yes, the cleaver jumped from my hand and landed on this arm,” Anne stroked on her scar. “I woke up to countless stitches soon after.”

“Tell me, what made you lose your focus? A lovely passerby perhaps or were you just a klutz?” Anne teased as she took a sip of wine.

Anne suddenly was reminded of that day. In the past, it was a desolate thought but right now with Ann Walker in front of her, it was nothing but a mere recollection of an event.

“I was distracted at the kitchen; my then ex-girlfriend just left me at that time.” Anne muttered flatly.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Ann realized, wide eyed.

“No, I’m good now, just a memory now.” Anne knew she wasn’t lying at this point. She in fact felt good by just talking about it; Ann had that effect on her.

Ann could only give her a sweet smile across the table, quite unsure if it was healthy to probe.

“Anyway, lobster will definitely be off Shibden’s menu.” Anne tried to lighten the mood.

“What? No seafood, whatsoever? I was looking forward to that. I mean after knowing that you handled seafood for so long.” Ann honestly looked quite disappointed.

“But it doesn’t mean that I won’t be cooking it for you? Does it?” Anne was quick to recover.

“I could use a chef in my studio” Ann smirked, _was she openly flirting now?_

“I could be available for several dinners, Ms. Walker.” Anne hinted.

“What are you proposing, Ms. Lister?” Ann found some confidence to continue the repartee.

“What I’m saying is, we could plan dinners over at your place and I can do some proper shopping and cook for you. Just so you know what I am good at. I can feed you many things.” Anne couldn’t help but lick her lips to emphasize the insinuation.

Ann remained quiet, Anne actually noticed her take a nervous swallow of saliva.

“We can do it properly, just so I don’t get random offers in the streets.” Anne winked.

“Sure, of course,” Was all Ann Walker could answer, tensely taking another sip of her wine.

She definitely has her hooked now and she didn’t intend to in the first place; Ann sought her out, Anne thought to herself.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the past comments and kudos! Again, this is a slow burn, so I will let you dangle for a little while. I also want to focus on the other characters a bit since I have prepared a few sub-plots in the sidelines. I hope you enjoyed this one!


	7. It's a Good Thing that You Came Along with Me (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you still feel the same?” Anne asked, maintaining her arm over Ann’s shoulders. “Alone that is.” She gave her a lingering look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this has been a drag and I had been taking my time. I don't mind this drag, especially when it's sprinkled with a little bit of butterflies. Enjoy!
> 
> Trigger Warning: mention of suicide and depression but nothing we already don't know from art history books.

* * *

It was another sunny afternoon when Anne and Ann found themselves wandering inside the halls of Tate Modern. The couple left for the museum early, it was about a three-hour drive from Halifax, but they had seem to very well at ease with each other, talking about almost anything under the sun. Once again, they took Anne’s silver Range Rover, agreeing to taking turns when driving. These spontaneous trips and get-togethers had been steady occurrences in both their calendars. If not to check on the progress of the inn renovations, Anne was either hanging out in Ann’s studio or having dinners in Halifax Main Street. Marian noted this sudden change in behavior with her sister; she almost never had meals at home except for a few breakfasts of coffee and toast, which she would consume hurriedly. Marian decided not to mind it so much; after all, she also had things to do herself. So, for Ann’s last free weekend before she begins her work at the inn, they decided to take an excursion to Tate Modern. Anne made an excuse that this would help them with the mural, but they both knew that it was just a perfect excuse. 

“What do you think was going through his mind?” Anne stood in a black cotton crew neck jumper, the collar of her crisp white shirt visible underneath. She wore slim fit grey pants and her tan brogues. Her glasses hung above the bridge of her nose, Ann couldn’t help but blush at the thought, Anne looked like a sexy university lecturer.

They were standing in front of Mark Rothko’s work _Black on Maroon,_ dated 1959. It was a large rectangular oil painting, a maroon square inside a black square. An abstract composition, one should take a closer look and deep contemplation to understand the work.

“More like what’s going on with his heart.” Ann motioned for them to sit on the large wooden bench, strategically situated in front of the painting with impeccable viewing height. Ann in her teal shirt with floral patterns, cornflower cardigan, and acid-washed denims sat first. Anne followed and sat beside her, rather too closely despite the spaciousness of the bench.

“He took his life you know, in 1970, perhaps gone too soon.” Ann murmured.

“This gives me a sense of heaviness.” Anne whispered, placing her hands on the bench to balance herself. Her hand, a little bit too close next to Ann’s.

“I attended one of his son’s lectures; he was about six years old when his father passed. He really did not understand a lot about his father at that time. But he knew that in today’s standards, he could not deny that he was depressed and perhaps, the very act of painting was in fact the most hopeful act for him.” Ann recalled.

“Do you sometimes feel that way, Ann?” Anne scooted over and placed an arm around Ann’s shoulders.

“Among the abstract expressionists, Pollock was always the more popular one, revolutionary and bold. However, I have identified more with Rothko, he seemed grounded but stranded, so profound but has vanished. He was not a performer like Pollock, Pollock liked to move around, for people to see. He worked alone, always wanted to be alone, there was a certain calm in the controlled chaos of brush strokes.” Ann went on, Anne Lister was speechless, she could also marvel at Ann. She was lost in her thoughts and this is where she understood Ann more, completely.

“I feel that sometimes, vanishing into my work. Wishing that I could be brave enough to admit what’s really going on. I mean after losing my parents, Liz moving away, suddenly being alone. I try to smile each day, but there are days when painting simply becomes a question of existence. An enquiry of sensations that is when I feel most alive. It is when I feel bravest,” Ann suddenly brought a finger up to the corner of her right eye and unblinking, Anne Lister thought she saw a tear almost fell.

“Do you still feel the same?” Anne asked, maintaining her arm over Ann’s shoulders. “Alone that is.” She gave her a lingering look.

“When I’m with you, I don’t.” Ann’s answer was immediate, she cupped Anne’s chin but after that, she instantly returned her gaze to the painting in front of them.

They spent another hour looking at Rothko’s works.

* * *

“Do you personally admire any artists, Anne?” Ann asked, her arm was looped around Anne’s arm. Anne had both her hands inside her pockets; Ann gripped her like a child, not wanting to be lost in the sea of people. 

They decided to take a walk to the Borough Market near the museum. Anne talked about grabbing some authentic Thai street food before they headed home.

“I suppose Frida Kahlo.” Anne deliberated.

“Hmm, interesting choice, why so?” Ann scrunched her forehead.

“Well, she spoke a lot about her life in art. See, her art was like a diary, a record of the different points of her life. Have you seen the wedding portrait that she made of her and Diego Rivera?” Anne shared.

Ann fumbled for her phone and searched for the portrait. “This one?” She showed the image to Anne from her phone screen.

“Yes, that one. I think it speaks a lot about their marriage and her life. But Frida also resonated to a lot of people, not only to the feminists and persons with disability but also…” Anne narrated.

“…with the LGBTQIA+ artists and movements.” Ann finished the sentence.

“Yes, and I suppose that imagery just shows how she sees Diego. He was bigger than she was literally and figuratively when they started their marriage. Diego was a known artist, part of the Mexican Communist Party when Frida joined. You did know that he was twenty years her senior?” Anne gave Ann a knowing look.

“That I know of but did not really mind.” Ann replied with a coy smile.

“Anyway, what fascinated me was Frida’s bravery, to be his equal. They did not have the most ideal of marriages that you already know of. So, when Diego was having extramarital affairs, so did Frida. She was bisexual; she was a cross-dresser, trying to emphasize how equal they were. However, I do believe that despite it all, she was in love with him, she was a woman consumed. She saw Diego as her husband, her friend, her universe.” Anne mused. “She experienced a lot of pain in her life, physical and emotional. But she was brave and she passed on in this world like wildfire, which I admire most about her.” Anne realized that she was holding hands with Ann now, the passion in her thoughts almost engulfed her, having a lack of awareness with her surroundings. 

“Do you identify with her?” Ann probed.

“No, not really, when I was reading about her life, I thought I was more of a Diego. Quite focused on oneself, one’s achievements, one’s yearnings. It was more about, if Frida gets reincarnated in this life and I would happen to meet her, I would probably make sure that she won’t get hurt again.” Anne looked at Ann with deep longing, too many words left unsaid, too many thoughts shared. “But I suppose, the Fridas of this world are bound to get hurt, to experience pain, for how will they develop their strength and courage if not for their struggles?”

“Are you trying to justify the pains that patriarchy and misogyny has caused in this society, Ms. Lister?” Ann quipped.

“No, not all at, nothing like that. What I mean is that, for whatever reason, people would eventually realize that they are strong but they simply need to go through certain pains to reach that point. For how do we measure strength if we are not prompted to carry heavy loads?” Anne clarified.

Ann eventually appreciated what Anne was saying and she could not help but smile at the thought.

“So be brave, Ann.” Without much thought, Anne innocently gave Ann a quick peck on the forehead. Ann did not recoil; she knew what Anne meant by that.

“You are sometimes full of bullshit!” Ann shoved Anne playfully, the air between them was getting heavy and she needed to lighten the mood.

“Well, that was an enlightening talk.” Anne smirked as they arrived at the Borough Market.

Anne led them to a small Thai food stall, _Khanom Krok._ They fell in line, standing among a throng of people. They dropped the romantic talk over artists and their lives, they stood there talking about food until they were being served. 

“Two Pad Thais, please.” Anne motioned to the stall owner.

Ann was just so pleased with this day out, _of course, it had nothing to do with the mural._ She already planned what she was going to do days ago.

* * *

It was Ann’s turn to drive on their way home to Halifax. Anne never enjoyed driving at night; her astigmatism has always been a challenge at night when all she sees sometimes are blurry lights and signs, that is why she always has her glasses with her as of late. Anne was a little bit tired from their daytrip, so she really appreciated it that Ann volunteered to drive them back.

Ingrid Michaelson’s, _Stay Right Where You Are,_ droned from the car stereo. The couple was a bit quiet now. Anne rested her forehead on the car window; they were carefully traversing a calm highway.

_Everybody says the world is ending_

_But tonight's just beginning_

_While everyone is running out and spinning_

_We keep slowing down_

Ann was in deep concentration, Anne observed that she was a careful driver, but she needed to move the driver’s seat closer to the steering wheel, her legs were shorter than Anne’s was. Anne looked at Ann’s profile, the lights from the highway illuminated her porcelain skin, flashing tints of yellows and reds; she looked ethereal.

_Stay right where you are_

_C'mon let me dance with you_

_Tell me where to start_

_Let me put my hands on you_

Anne always needed to adjust the seat again, but it wasn’t much of a chore. It was a sweet reminder, that she had someone else to drive with, to go to places with, it was an adjustment that she was willing to make.

_Everything we need is in the quiet_

_So let's hide out deep inside it_

_And even if tomorrow doesn't hold on_

_At least, at least, at least we have this one song, one song_

Anne smiled shamelessly at the thought.

“What’s rearing in your ugly head?” Ann inquired without looking at her passenger.

“Nothing.” Anne replied, leaning unto the closed window with her elbow, her chin under the back of her palm.

“You’re smiling, what’s so funny?” Ann continued to probe.

“You should pay more attention on the road you know, not at your passenger.” Anne quipped.

“I have peripheral vision, Ms. Lister.” Ann defended as she looked at the side mirror several times before changing lanes.

“What’s not to smile about?” Anne implied.

“Of course,” Ann smiled, again, this one reached her ears.

And at that very moment, Anne Lister knew, she was fated. This girl was to be her Frida.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of things mentioned here are my own interpretations based on the articles about the life and works of the artists mentioned above, thank you for understanding.


	8. You Didn't Even Hesitate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did I overstep?” Anne thought.
> 
> Ann only shook her head side to side in reply.

* * *

Ann arrived at the inn by noon; she was carrying buckets of plaster, acrylic primer, painting materials as well as cleaning materials. Catherine dropped Ann off at the inn with her hot pink Volkswagen Polo. Sam had seen her from afar and rushed to help her to carry the materials to her workspace. Ann wore an old pair of khaki dungarees already splotched with paint, a white tank top underneath, and a pair of Birkenstocks that had probably seen better days. She had a red bandana tied loosely around her neck. As Sam placed the buckets near the ladder in her work area, Ann started to spread her tools from a handmade leather roll case on a plastic folding table.

“Would you need any help, Ann?” Sam politely inquired.

“No, thank you, I would like to do the wall cleaning and plastering myself. I’m actually quite excited about this.” Ann beamed as she stood in front of the wide blank wall.

“I believe Thomas and the guys had already stripped and sanded that wall. The ladder is all yours, if you need any tools just let me know.” Sam observed.

“Thanks, Sam.” Ann looked happy; she was indeed excited to start working. “Oh, by the way, is Anne here?” Ann added.

“Yeah, she’s just back in the kitchen, spotting some adjustments for the range hood with Thomas.” Sam replied. “Want me to get her?” Sam inferred.

“Oh, no worries. I’ll see her when they’re done.” Ann settled.

“Alright then, holler if you need anything.” Sam made a mock salute and exited towards the main door.

Ann was finally left alone in the main dining area. She noticed that the booths were repaired. The floors were stripped and cleaned, the ceiling looks like it was repainted, and the walls were clean and bare. The some electrical outlets were in the process of being repaired though but the ones near her workspace were already installed. Natural light filtered into the room, the wide windows were repaired and cleaned as well.

Ann started to get to work; she took an empty bucket, a rag, and a sponge. She needed to prepare the surface first; rid it of any mold, grease, wax or dirt before priming it. She took off the bandana from her neck and used it to hold her hair. She took some water from the bar’s faucet; she could her muffled voices from the kitchen. She thought of greeting Anne but perhaps they should concentrate on their work first.

* * *

“So, are the heights comfortable?” Thomas inquired, taking some follow-ups in a notepad.

Anne wanted an efficient commercial-grade kitchen, all stainless countertops, a new range, oven, and a powerful hood, a salamander grill, deep fryer, and freezer and a walk-in cooler. Thomas was giving Anne a walk-through with the locations of flatware, dishware, condiment containers, serving utensils, and the chef’s knives. Thomas had also installed an efficient dishwashing and food waste system.

“I believe so,” Anne moved to inspect the shelving. “When will the grease trap arrive?” She inquired.

“I’ll be picking it up tomorrow before I check on the furniture.” Thomas noted. “We will be able to install it in the afternoon.”

Some of the installers were placing fire extinguishers as they moved about.

“So, when will the kitchen be functional?” Anne probed as she continued inspecting other areas.

“Well, just give us maybe two more days, then we can have the space inspected by the fire marshal before we turn on the gas.” Thomas jotted down.

Anne nodded in agreement. “Can you add more lighting here?” Anne pointed at one segment of the counter.

“There’s under cabinet lighting actually.” Thomas motioned at a light switch under the overhead cabinet.

“Good thinking.” Anne beamed. “So, is that all for today?”

“I believe so.” Thomas tapped his pen on the notepad.

“Thank you for being so thorough,” Anne gave Thomas a light pat on the shoulder as she moved to exit the kitchen.

As Anne re-emerged in the bar area from the kitchen, she noticed some movement in the dining area. _Ann must be here already,_ she thought to herself. As Anne entered the dining hall, she was astonished at the sight before her. Ann Walker was in her element, she was on top of a 6ft. fiberglass twin ladder, scrubbing the wall clean. Her firm sinewy arms were in full display. Her forehead was scrunched in concentration, her arms moving in patterned motion. Small beads of perspiration trickled down her neck to her exposed clavicles. Anne couldn’t deny it, it was one of the most sensual scenes that she has witnessed in her life. Anne took a slug of confidence before approaching Ann. Ann was lost in her work, earbuds hung on her ears, her phone tucked in the front pocket of her dungarees. Ann was barefoot again, her Birkenstocks tucked underneath the ladder.

Anne approached her slowly, trying not to startle her. Ann noticed the movement and looked below, she made eye contact with Anne and flashed her a smirk. She removed the earbuds before going down from the ladder. She left her rag on top of the ladder; both her arms were extended showing her biceps, she descended carefully.

“Hey,” Ann greeted with a coy smile.

“Hey yourself,” Anne winked.

Anne stood at the foot of the ladder in a plain black t-shirt, cropped jeans, and sneakers. She still had her eyeglasses on, which made her look firm despite her casual appearance.

“How long have you been here?” Anne inquired.

“Maybe about an hour or so,” Ann replied as she hopped off the last step.

Anne moved to give Ann a light kiss on the cheek, but the latter immediately recoiled.

“I’m all sweaty!” Ann remarked.

“I don’t mind,” Anne gave her a side hug instead. “So, what had you been up to?”

“Well, I just cleaned the wall. I’ll be plastering it until tonight probably.” Ann motioned at the blank wall in front of them.

“So, you’ll be working overtime?” Anne inquired.

“Just so I get some peace and quiet when the others leave.” Ann explained.

“Sure, no problem, I’ll keep you company then. We can have something delivered; the kitchen is not yet functional.” Anne established.

“Oh, you shouldn’t bother, I mean if you’ll entrust me with a spare key, I can lock up.” Ann volunteered instead.

“Really, it’s no problem at all, unless I would be a nuisance?” Anne implied.

“No, nothing like that, I just don’t like bothering other people with my work moods.” Ann explained further.

“I promise I’ll keep quiet, I have some work anyway,” Anne countered. “Plus, I’m really not _other people,_ am I not?” Anne gave a coy smile.

“Of course, if you insist.” Ann finally gave in.

* * *

Instead of ordering food, Marian arrived with several Tupperware containers of crab cakes, herb roasted potatoes, and a bottle of pinot blanc. Upon knowing that her sister was not having dinner at their home again, the younger Lister insisted on bringing them food instead. Thomas, Sam, and the others were preparing to leave when Marian arrived. A scruffy Thomas Beech went to her aid as she walked towards the inn.

“Hey Ms. Marian, can I help you with that?” Thomas motioned at the canvas bag filled with goods hanging on Marian’s shoulder.

“Sure,” Marian stuttered at Beech’s closeness. “Call me Marian instead.”

“Sure thing, Marian,” He winked as he removed the bag from her shoulder, almost brushing his chest with her shoulder.

Thomas wore a seamless grey tank top over a pair of work pants. Marian couldn’t help but marvel at such display of brawniness as Beech walked ahead.

“Dinner has arrived.” Beech declared as he deposited the bag on the reception counter where Anne was seated reviewing notes for her menu.

“Thanks Beech,” Anne acknowledged without looking up.

“So, you’ll be working overtime?” Marian inquired as she stood next to Beech. Beech did not move from his spot, seemingly waiting for something or someone.

“Ann prefers to work in peace when all the drilling and hammering noises are gone; I guess I’ll just keep her company.” Anne replied matter of factly. “Thank you for dinner, Marian.” She added.

“No problem, so I’ll be heading out, do you need anything else?” Marian queried.

“This will do, thank you again.” Anne beamed at her sister as she inspected the goods.

“Alright then, I’ll be on my way.” Marian decided.

Anne noted that Beech was still standing behind Marian. “Need anything else, Beech?”

“Ow, I was just wondering if Marian needs a ride, I noticed you walked here. I’m heading out as well.” Beech offered bashfully.

“Would you need a ride, Marian?” Anne gave her sister a knowing look.

“That would be very nice, Thomas.” Marian gave Beech a reserved smile.

“Shall, we?” Beech moved to make way for Marian.

“Goodnight, Anne,” Marian gave her sister a meaningful smirk.

“Goodnight, Marian,” Anne sneered. “Drive safely, Beech.” Anne added.

“Goodnight, Ms. Lister.” Thomas remarked as the duo exited the inn.

Anne moved to peek at the window as they walked down the cobblestone path towards parking lot. She noticed that Beech and Marian were chuckling as they headed towards Beech’s truck, the parking lot was almost empty now, and the others had already left. Anne noted their unusual behavior, perhaps there was more to it than just friendliness.

“What are you looking at?” Anne jerked from her spot as someone poked her on the hips from behind.

“Goodness! You startled me!” Anne realized that Ann was already standing behind her, eventually peeping at the window as well.

“What are you looking at?” Ann moved closer to the window, Anne couldn’t help but notice that Ann’s shoulder was already digging on her back. She reveled at the proximity.

“Just Marian and Thomas, do you think there’s something going on?” Anne speculated.

“Hmm, actually they look kinda cute.” Anne remarked, wiping the back of her hand on a rag. Ann was grubby now, there were some marks of dried plaster on her left cheek, her right elbow, and the back of her hand.

“Isn’t Beech a bit young for, Marian? He’s just in his late twenties you know.” Anne commented as she moved away from the window, the couple had already left.

“Isn’t it like the pot calling the kettle black?” Ann sniggered as she walked back to the main dining hall; Anne followed her, carrying the canvas bag that held their dinner.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Anne noted.

“I’m just saying, as if you never had relations or been attracted to someone way younger?” Ann teased. “As if age gap has ever stopped you.” Ann slurred.

Anne was frozen in place; she knew what Ann was referring to.

“Would you dare contradict me?” Ann gave her a raised eyebrow.

Anne knew that admitting to it could only mean one thing, Ann was fishing for confirmation but Anne thought of playing along instead.

“Of course, you’re right,” Anne snickered. “I remember this fourteen year old back then, always on her bike, passing by the inn just to catch a glimpse of me.” Anne badgered. She was actually more aware of Little Walker’s past actions given that she has thought about it now. She just did not mind her before, believing that she was too young for her. However, the woman in front of her was more matured now, more confident, and surer of herself.

“Hey, I…” Ann tried to defend herself but she suddenly realized that by countering Anne, she was openly admitting her fondness of Anne openly.

“I never said it was you,” Anne teased. “But I never said that I did not return her interest at this point.” Anne added.

Ann opened her mouth to retort but decided against it. “Ow, shut up and serve your wage earner some dinner instead,” She replied, placing a soft jab on Anne’s shoulder.

Anne only sneered after getting that reaction from Ann; she just knew how to unravel her.

* * *

Dinner was quite inconspicuous for the couple; Anne took out wine glasses and dishes from the bar to serve dinner. They talked about many typical things; painting techniques, wine selection, and even crab cakes. They talked about the most mundane things during dinner. Ann had two glasses of wine before she returned to her plastering.

It was already getting late and Anne had nothing left to do. She put away her notes in the reception counter cabinet and headed to Ann’s workspace. Ann now had a Bluetooth speaker droning in the background with a playlist from her phone. Ann was deeply concentrating on her work. She was finishing spots that she missed; she was on top of the ladder once again. Anne was just mesmerized with the way Ann moved. Ann’s movements were calculated and smooth, she looked like she was dancing, but honestly, she was just plastering.

Then, just like that, in the most ordinary moment, Anne concluded, _she was obsessed with Ann Walker._ With the soft spot light of the room, Ann’s blonde hair glimmered. There was the rhythmic sound of the palette against the plastered surface. Anne just stood there so profoundly enamored.

 _Lykke Li_ ’s euphonious voice was serenading them in the evening. The song _Little Bit_ echoing in the room.

_Hands down, I'm too proud for love_

_But with eyes shut, it's you I'm thinking of_

Anne approached Ann, she suddenly stood underneath the ladder. Ann noticed her presence once again and decided to descend from the ladder. Anne caught Ann on the last step; they were face to face now. Ann wedged between Anne’s arms, both holding on to the ladder. Ann look startled at first but her gaze grew softer. Anne’s eyes were so dark, her stare never wavered; Ann could feel her almost bursting at the seams.

_But how we move from A to B_

_It can't be up to me cause you don't know_

_Eye to eye, thigh to thigh, I let go_

Anne’s face was close, so close that Ann could feel her breath. Anne still smelled like fresh laundry after a long day. Ann breathed her in, her gaze was smoldering.

“Anne?” Ann whispered.

“I just couldn’t help it anymore.” Anne admitted in a breathy tone.

Then, just like that, something ignited. Anne balanced Ann in place; Ann was leaning on the ladder. _One breath_ and their lips finally touched.

_I think I'm a little bit, little bit_

_A little bit in love with you_

It started with a soft peck, then a series of closed mouthed kisses. Ann could still taste the bitter wine that lingered on their lips. Then, Ann cupped Anne’s chin and the kiss deepened.

_But only if you're a little bit, little bit_

_Little bit in love with me_

Holding on to Anne’s shoulders, Ann entrapped Anne’s torso between her legs. Clamping her arms underneath Ann’s legs, Anne lifted Ann without breaking the kiss. The ladder almost fell as they moved, they both smiled amid the lip lock.

_And for you I keep my legs apart_

_And forget about my tainted heart_

_And I will never ever be the first to say it_

Anne deposited Ann on to surface of the nearby table until Ann was seated. The kiss got more intense until Anne took a breath and withdrew to take a good look at Ann’s face. Ann’s eyes were still aflame; Anne noticed it as a deeper blue. Anne eventually calmed down and gave Ann a quick peck on top of her nose. Anne was still in between Ann’s legs, Ann’s arms on her shoulders, her arms tucked behind Ann’s hips.

_But still I, you know I_

_I would do it_

“Did I overstep?” Anne thought.

Ann only shook her head side to side in reply.

“Are you okay?” Anne verified.

“More than okay.” Ann smiled, tucking her head onto Anne’s chest in the process.

“I think I got carried away.” Anne whispered.

“So, what does this mean?” Ann finally looked up her arm still hooked on Anne’s shoulders.

“I think this makes us more than friends now.” Anne supposed.

“I was always a little bit in love with you."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waited for this spark of inspiration to hit me.  
> It's good to listen to Lykke Li's song Little Bit while reading this chapter.  
> It sets the mood (wink, wink)


	9. I Didn't Know if You Wanted To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ann was quiet for a while, giving her an unreadable stare.
> 
> “Shit, sorry, it just slipped.” Anne tried to act contrite.
> 
> “Is that what we are?” Ann searched Anne’s eyes for an answer.

* * *

It was a peaceful Sunday afternoon; Anne just came from Main Street. Anne just stopped by a newly opened bakery and grabbed two boxes of German style buttercream tortes. She was almost bouncing as she walked, it was the weekend and they had some time off their work at the inn. She was going to cook for Ann tonight, so she was carrying a bag of tomato and basil pasta ingredients on her shoulder. Ann had asked her to teach her some simple pasta recipes. Their connection had intensely progressed; there were no profound promises yet but they knew where they were headed. Anne wasn’t used to this feeling, just being giddy and excited like a high school senior experiencing first love. She does know who her first love was, just that it was full of damaging emotions and uncertainty; _she doesn’t want to be reminded anymore._

Anne’s eyes were glued to her phone screen; she was texting with one hand as she walked.

**AL: I can’t wait to see you**

**AW: You saw me yesterday, I miss you too <3**

**AL: I just got home, will be there within an hour**

Anne responded before placing her phone inside the pocket of her jeans. She placed the boxes and groceries on the front door and fumbled for her house keys. 

Anne unlocked the front door carefully and entered the manor soundlessly. The hall was empty when she arrived; she knew that Jeremy was out and probably Marian was as well. Jeremy was at the Washington’s, probably immersed in another game of cribbage with Sam and Thomas. Anne picked up her articles at her feet and headed to the kitchen. She dropped her bag of groceries and boxes of tortes at the kitchen counter. She could probably take a shower before she heads to Ann’s studio.

Anne climbed up the stairs two steps at a time careful not to lose her footing, humming softly to herself. She rummaged for a clean pair of underwear, another black t-shirt, and a pair of slim fit pants from her closet. Before she undressed for the shower, she realized that she had ran out of hair conditioner. She decided to head to Marian’s en suite to leech on some hair product from her sister.

Anne simply enters Marian’s room speedily but before she could make out the darkness of the room, the scene in front of her shocked her.

There stood Thomas Beech butt-naked, his jeans pooling on his feet grounding himself steadily in between her sister’s legs who was sat at the foot of her bed.

“Goodness gracious, Marian!” was all Anne could yell before shutting the door close.

With her heart pounding, Anne rushed to the kitchen; realizing that she needed some tea to calm her down. Probably, she could no longer unsee what she just saw.

* * *

“So, are you guys dating now?” Anne muttered calmly as she sipped some chamomile tea.

The pot of tea was warm on the table between the sisters. They were at the breakfast nook, Marian in a fluffy bathrobe seated across her sister. Thomas Beech had left, giving them space, after mumbling apologies to Anne and whispering that _he would call_ to Marian after placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

“You didn’t even notice his truck parked out front?” Marian was fuming at her sister; she sat there with her arms crossed.

“I told you, I wasn’t paying much attention.” Anne realized that because she was texting Ann, she was unaware of her surroundings.

“It’s very embarrassing, you know!” Marian admitted.

There was this pregnant pause between the sisters. Suddenly, their eyes met and they started laughing hysterically.

“You are such a later bloomer, Marian. Being caught by your sister with your boyfriend in bed is something that you could have done two decades ago.” Anne sniggered while trying to wipe a tear from her eye.

“Well, you could have knocked first!” Marian threw a paper towel at her sister.

“I thought no one was home.” Anne defended.

“So, you just go about my room like that,” Marian realized.

“Of course, when you’re not around and I need something. I’ve been doing that for more than twenty years.” Anne teased.

“That explains my missing scrunchies and handkerchiefs!” Marian grasped.

“I thought you knew,” Anne snickered.

Marian gave her sister a jab on the shoulder.

“Anyway, sorry for barging in like that. I guess I made you miss your orgasm.” Anne jested.

“You’re so vulgar!” Marian reacted.

“Anyway,” Anne coughed. “So, you’re serious with, Beech then?” Anne inquired.

“Well, I guess he is.” Marian answered nonchalantly.

“What do you mean by that? You don’t have feelings for him?” Anne speculated. “Just look at him, well, I’m gay, not blind.” She added.

“I know, I know, he’s actually very sincere and humble. He’s also quite smart, I mean there’s a certain balance of brawn and brains.” Marian gushed. “But…”

“But?” Anne wondered.

“I mean, isn’t he a little bit too young for me? He’s only twenty-nine you know.” Marian emphasized.

At that point, Anne knew exactly what to tell her sister.

“Does it matter?” Anne probed.

“Well, you know society. I mean I’m thirty-eight, he’s twenty-nine, Anne! One day, we’ll go walking down the street and pretty girls will swoon at him and then will wonder why he is with an old hag. I don’t want to end up like that.” Marian pouted.

“So, you’re not serious about him?” Anne probed.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not serious. I’m just worried, that’s all.” Marian thought.

“Hey, I’m not even sure if I’m in the position to give you some advice. I have my own insecurities myself,” Anne mumbled. “But Ann said something about the pot calling the kettle black. Tell me, are you happy? Do you guys enjoy each other’s company? I mean aside from the sex and stuff.” Anne delved. 

“Well,” Marian had a goofy smile on her face. “We went out several times, I guess he does understand me, he actually likes me for my petulance, he finds it endearing.” Marian replied.

“Well, why not give it a try then?” Anne reached for her sister’s hand.

“Thanks, Anne,” Marian held onto her sister’s hand. “Ann, gave you some advice you say? How are things with Little Miss Walker, anyway?” Marian urged. 

“Things are going quite well, actually,” Anne breathe out in relief. “I mean we’re taking it slow, not like your pace with Beech.” Anne managed to joke. “It’s actually not the pace that I am used to. But I’m very much enraptured to stick around and see where this goes.”

“Hmm, my sister, taking it slow, that’s some improvement on your part. You were always like a whirlwind, drawing in everything but eventually disappearing in thin air.” Marian pointed out.

“I think, this time, this is different. I have a good feeling about this.” Anne realized.

“Just don’t get hurt again, okay?” Marian reminded Anne.

“Likewise.” Anne replied before excusing herself from her sister, gathering that she was already getting late for the dinner that she was making.

* * *

“You saw what?” Ann was nuzzled in Anne’s chest; she was sitting in between Anne’s legs on the sofa in her studio.

After eating dinner, the couple were sharing a pint of chocolate truffle ice cream for dessert, taking turns in feeding each other with a single spoon. Anne had forgotten the tortes that she previously bought due to the shenanigans at home.

“Please don’t make me repeat it. It’s weird to see your baby sister in that position.” Anne mumbled as she ate a spoonful of ice cream that Ann fed her.

“I can’t believe that Marian is already in her late thirties and you still call her baby sister.” Ann teased; she wore a pair of flocked joggers and a loose graphic t-shirt. She was barefoot once again and Anne noticed that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Anne removed her shoes to be more comfortable but she kept her socks on.

“But she is my baby sister.” Anne replied nonchalantly.

“So, I would always be just _younger_ to you?” Ann probed.

“Well, you are indeed younger but I wouldn’t look at you that way. I mean, we’re together, we’re equal. You’re my girlfriend, not my younger sister.” Anne eventually realized what she just said.

Ann was quiet for a while, giving her an unreadable stare.

“Shit, sorry, it just slipped.” Anne tried to act contrite.

“Is that what we are?” Ann searched Anne’s eyes for an answer.

“If you want us to be.” Anne replied immediately. Anne was never into labels, simply because no one simply acknowledged her as such. But Ann was refreshing and she knew that she was the type who needed a sense of assurance.

Without saying anything, Ann simply brought their faces closer together and engaged Anne in a lip lock. It was brief; Anne could still taste the remainder of their dessert from Ann’s lips.

“Yes, I want us to be like that,” Ann hummed after the kiss.

Anne couldn’t explain Ann’s effect on her; she gets tongue-tied and stammers, this wasn’t normal for her. In any relationship or affair, she was always the more forward one; she rattles women and catches them speechless. However, as their relationship is established, Ann has been more assertive, more forward, and she had never imagined this from her. Ann Walker always found ways and moments to amaze her. The feeling in the pit of her stomach was new and only Ann gave her that feeling.

* * *

“So, the pieces that I worked on, it’s for a show in Paris in fall.” Ann whispered. Her head was on a pillow popped over Anne’s lap.

The television was humming in low volume; Stephen Frears’ adaptation of Nick Hornby’s _High Fidelity_ was playing. Anne played with Ann’s hair as they watched peacefully, the glare from the flat screen was the only thing illuminating the room.

“You’ll be heading to Paris after the summer, then?” Anne confirmed.

“Yes, but I’ll be here until you re-open the inn.” Ann jolted from her position.

“Of course, you shouldn’t miss it,” Anne smiled, tucking Ann’s hair behind her ear as she got up to face her.

“I know you will be so busy with the new inn and all but I want you to be there. I mean, of course, I’ll be leaving in advance for a few weeks for the set-up but I want you to join me. I’ve always had exhibit openings but my family never attended any of it, well, except for Catherine, sometimes. Liz is stuck in New Zealand with the kids, not that I detest her for that. I love those kids. But, you know, will you be there? It would mean so much to me…” Ann was already rambling again.

Anne gave her a wry smile just to tease her a bit.

“Of course, you’ll be busy, what was I thinking…” However, before Ann could ramble some more, Anne had already interjected.

“I’ll be there,” Anne whispered, cupping Ann’s chin and placing a kiss on her temple.

“Really?” Ann’s blue eyes glowed.

“Really,” Anne grinned.

To Anne’s surprise, Ann immediately jerked from her seat and bounced on Anne’s lap. She eventually peppered her face with kisses.

“What do you mean by nobody has ever attended your exhibit openings?” Ann was finally calm, Anne steadied her on her lap, and Ann’s arms were wrapped around Anne’s broad shoulders.

“Well, when my work was eventually noticed, Lizzie had already married and moved to New Zealand. She just had her first baby at that time, so travelling was not advisable. Most of my family did not really care; they just saw it as a hobby, my art. Catherine had always managed to be there for me, but she couldn’t be there all the time.” Ann recalled.

“So, you’ve always been in these things, alone?” Anne deliberated.

“Well, not really alone, some of my friends were there, past mentors. But you know, not anyone who really mattered to me. Lizzie would send letters and gifts though, but it’s not really the same as being there.” Ann confided.

“Of course, I understand. Well, I won’t give you pity because you don’t like that. But all I can say is that, from now on, you shouldn’t think about being alone anymore. Don’t think that I wouldn’t drop anything for you. I would drop everything for you.” Anne assured, Ann beamed at the thought.

“I won’t hold you to anything; I’ll believe it when I see it.” Ann retorted.

At that point, Anne vowed in her mind, _she would never make this woman feel desolate again._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line "gay, not blind" was borrowed from Leo Snart from DC's Legends of Tomorrow.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this double update.


	10. I Can Say it is by the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it was quite easy, she was having a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach once again.  
> I hope that nothing goes wrong.

* * *

Harsh sunlight penetrated her eyelids; she woke up with a dry mouth, mild headache, and a very numb and aching shoulder. Anne could not move her upper body and there was a very good reason for it actually. As Anne tried to make out the unfamiliar surroundings, she saw the familiar throws, the large rug, and the exposed rafters above her; she was definitely still in Ann Walker’s studio. _Scratch that, her girlfriend’s studio in fact._

Anne recalled the goings-on of the previous night, she had a slip of the tongue, she was definitely afraid that Ann might not reciprocate the greatness of her feelings but then she did. She never thought that Ann did in fact regard her with the same intensity. Anne never had it easy in the past, it was a series of unrequited feelings, flings that simply lasted for hours in bed, hidden affairs, or toxic relationships that only made her hate herself more. Things had been easy with Ann Walker recently, she need not overthink, and things just flowed. However, easy was everything that Anne has dreaded, easy always had its stumbling blocks. Everything had happened without complications; they just fit. She has a girlfriend now and they have not even done anything beyond kissing. Ann Walker is a breath of fresh air; she is straightforward yet sincere, and she is guarded but daring. She is like the first rainfall of spring, temperate yet tough. Anne had this sense of panic deep within; Ann Walker was too good to be true. But she wouldn’t show her fear, not just yet, she just hopes that she won’t get hurt again.

Ann was still lying there on the couch beside her; her golden mane glowed in the morning light. She glimmered like gold in the air of summer. Anne endured the pain of her shoulder a bit; she just wanted to stay in the moment, if only for a while. Half of Anne’s body was pinned under Ann’s actually; Anne had an arm draped across Ann’s torso, simply to prevent her from falling off the edge. They fell asleep like that, talking about anything as the television died into white noise. Anne had never experienced something like that, the deep sense of intellectual and emotional connection; most of her past entanglements were just based on physical connection, not much talking. But Ann was different, she rambled when she was nervous, she rambled when she was excited, and she rambled all the more when she was furious. Anne felt like they’ll never run out of things to say to each other. Anne tried to wiggle slowly, trying her very best not to wake Ann. She thought of preparing her breakfast and maybe to get some caffeine in her system. She was in deep concentration of untangling herself from Ann’s form when suddenly; she heard hurried footsteps coming from the threshold that led to the main house.

“Annie dear, I got you breakfast…”

Catherine emerged from the doorway and was dumbstruck by the scene unfolding before her. She dropped the bag of goods that she was holding; it hit the floor with clatter.

Anne locked eyes with Catherine; she was as if a deer caught in headlights.

“Well, you must be Catherine,” Anne greeted with a hoarse voice as she jumped from sofa, trying to manage her balance as her feet hit the floor.

Just in time, Ann stirred from her sleep; she unwound herself from her fetal position and turned in place without realizing that she was already at the edge of the sofa. Ann fell from the couch with a loud thud. Anne wasn’t fast enough to grab her. 

Both Catherine and Anne rushed to help Ann from her fall.

“G’morning,” Ann mumbled with a grimace. “Have you guys met yet?” Ann was still laying on the floor, Anne and Catherine looking over her form.

“Well, I guess now is a good time,” Anne joked, looking at Catherine.

* * *

After a quick breakfast, Anne excused herself; still tending to a mild headache, she left with the thought of seeing Ann later that day. With a soft kiss on Ann’s temple, Anne disappeared into the hallway. The cousins were still there, sitting across each other at Anne’s massive dining table. Catherine was wiggling her eyebrows at her, giving Ann a mischievous look. They were still eating the fruits that Catherine had brought with her.

“So, I’m guessing you're mixing business with pleasure?” Catherine prodded, before biting onto an orange slice, she couldn’t be more suggestive. “C’mon, spill!”

“There’s nothing to spill,” Ann gave her cousin an awkward smile.

“I catch you in bed cozy with someone, well, in the couch that is and then you blatantly deny it,” Catherine pretended that she was flabbergasted. “Don’t worry, I promise to use the doorbell next time, no more surprise visits. Ms. Lister can have my key for all I care.”

“We were fully clothed! Plus, don’t go around handing out my keys. It was just dinner and then we fell asleep talking.” Ann was not a kiss-and-tell type of person.

“What? You’re saying that you had Anne Lister in your grasp and you’re telling me that you haven’t even tried dry humping? Not even snogging?” Catherine teased.

“Geez, Cath, you make us sound like horny teenagers,” Ann countered.

“Tell me cousin, are you bad in bed? There must be some explanation why you are suddenly so dense about it,” Catherine delved.

“I am not dense, and neither am the former,” Ann pouted.

“And you can’t even say it,” Catherine laughed. “What’s wrong with you Walker? You’re an adult, yeah, and you have this legend of a woman in between your legs and you’re telling me that you’ve done nothing? What about your perpetual crush? Tell me you have at least kissed her?” Catherine continued the inquisition.

“I’m not like that, I wouldn’t jump her bones every chance I get. Plus, I never said anything about not kissing her,” Ann smiled coyly.

Catherine gasped. “That’s my girl!” She applauded. “But this is Anne Lister we are talking about; surely, you have done something beyond that.”

“She’s not like what you think and we are definitely not like what you think,” Ann defended.

“C’mon Ann, don’t be such a prude, someone like Lister, you need to keep her interested at least.” Catherine speculated.

With that thought, Ann recalled that evening, of course, they were quite inebriated, not drunk but definitely not too sober. Their first kiss, the moment was a revelation, but it was tender, nothing brash. It was just how she imagined kissing Anne Lister would be, her stomach churned.

“Believe it or not, she is very much interested and I don’t need to pull down my pants for that,” Ann continued to defend herself from Catherine’s prompting.

“Alright, alright, whatever you say. Just be careful. You know what people say…” Catherine remarked but Ann intervened before she could finish her statement.

“I can take care of myself, Cath. For what it’s worth, people always have things to say but I think they just got it all wrong,” Ann clarified.

“I know you know what you’re doing. She’s actually quite cool and attentive,” Catherine observed.

“Plus, I bet she won’t keep anything from her girlfriend,” Ann gave a diffident smile.

“Her what? What did you just say?” Catherine finally grasped Ann’s words. “Oh, you sly sly child, bless you!” Catherine joked. “So, that’s what those excursions were about these past few weeks!”

Ann couldn’t help but just be smug about it.

“I can’t believe my sweet little Annie already has Anne Lister wrapped around her finger! And you even kept your panties on for it!” Catherine exclaimed.

“Shut your filthy mouth, Cath!” Ann gave her cousin a blunt look and she moved to peel a banana.

“What can I say? I’m proud of you!” Catherine wiped away a fake tear.

“Isn’t it quite surreal?” Ann realized.

“Well, the only advice I can give is for you to keep on doing what you’re doing or probably, what you’re not doing.” Catherine teased her cousin some more.

“Gosh, you are insufferable!” Ann threw the banana peel at her cousin’s face.

* * *

“So, what did Catherine say about us?” Anne was on the floor, helping Ann open paint cans. She wore acid wash jeans, a faded black Pink Floyd t-shirt, and black sneakers.

They were seated across each other, cross-legged on the floor with buckets of paint and brushes around them. The plaster has dried and Ann was going to start working on the actual mural. They had an agreement that Anne wouldn’t want to see the preliminary drafts for the mural. Aside from Ann, only Thomas as the designer had an idea of what the composition would look like. But Ann was still quite secretive with her work, she wanted to surprise Anne, so Thomas only knew which colors she’ll be using. She had even decided not to charge Anne for the mural; it was going to be a gift. Anne vigorously stirred the bucket of white paint to make sure there was no separation in the liquid. From then on, Ann will cover the work area with a wide piece of cloth until the mural was finished.

“Of course,” Ann was concentrating; the tip of her tongue was in between her lips. She was in her work dungarees again, now with a navy blue shirt underneath and a yellow bandana to hold back her hair.

“What did she say? Does she approve?” Anne had a look of concern. “I hope I did not give a bad impression.”

“Catherine worships you, if not, she’s just probably intimidated,” Ann explained.

“Well, if she believes every story about me, I won’t take it against her,” Anne chuckled.

“So, you know about the gossips?” Ann noted.

“Of course, Marian gives me feedback. She enjoys the most outrageous ones,” Anne pointed out.

“Which ones do you know?” Ann wanted to find out.

“Have you heard about the one when I went to Copenhagen many years ago?” Anne recalled.

“Hmm, not yet,” Ann thought.

“Well, to make the long story short, some folks claimed that I was married to a royal and that I already own a quarter of Denmark. Marian and father had a laugh about it. In reality, I was just invited to some fancy dinner by an heiress. The Danes were really such hospitable people,” Anne remembered.

“So, you fancied that heiress?” Ann had a hint of jealousy in her tone.

“Green is not a good color on you,” Anne joked, poking Ann’s nose softly.

“C’mon, it’s in the past, you could at least tell me!” Ann probed.

“Fine, fine,” Anne smirked. “Well, I must admit my past was colorful. It was a great night for a good party but I wasn’t really into blondes back then.” Anne gave Ann a knowing look.

“And now?” Ann leered.

“Well, let’s say I can make an exception.” Anne scooted to give her girlfriend a quick peck.

“Promise me you’ll be candid about it,” Ann whispered.

“About what?” Anne wondered.

“About your life, about your adventures, good or bad. I mean in your own time, of course. I can’t promise that I won’t get jealous from time to time but I just want to know this part of you. The parts I’ve missed, if you let me,” Ann requested.

Anne Lister was caught dumbfounded for a moment; Ann Walker really knew how to unhinge her. Nobody cared about her past, how she came to be. They just cared about what she could offer, for her to give and give, and end up empty in the end.

“Are you sure?” She needed room for some doubt.

“I wanna know you Anne, everything about you. But probably not all at once, I might collapse,” Ann joked.

Anne smiled at the thought. Finally, someone was really interested in her. In addition, it’s not just about the sunny side of things and the enticing bits but also perhaps her misfortunes and disappointments. 

“Of course, not all at once, just bits and pieces as we go along. And you as well?” Anne confirmed

“Of course, this is not a one way street,” Ann beamed.

The couple marveled at each other for a while. Yes, it was quite easy, she was having a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach once again. _I hope that nothing goes wrong._

“Well, that’s settled then. Now, keep stirring, the paint is drying up,” Ann Walker was actually a bit bossy, Anne realized.

Ann Walker was feisty but sweet, she needed that boldness in her life. Probably, someone who would stick to her word, at least. _She could fall for her, one last risk._

* * *


	11. When I Came To Pick You Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What? We’re not here to…you know?” Anne wiggled her eyebrows at Ann.
> 
> “Oh dear, you thought…we’re just here for…” Ann smiled.

* * *

It was another weekend not spent in Halifax; Ann had woken up her girlfriend early that Saturday morning. Anne was impelled to dress casually and to hop on her family’s Range Rover with Ann behind the wheel. However, she could not help but notice the overnight bag that the sprightly Ann received from Marian. Seemingly, the duo had impishly planned for this trip without her knowledge.

“You won’t even bother to ask if I had some things planned.” Anne mumbled in her seat. She wore a light black hoodie, a dark grey t-shirt, casual denims, and sneakers. She was drinking her coffee from a thermos and munching on toasts that Ann tucked away in the cup holders.

“Thomas says he can take care of the inn, Marian says nothing’s up and so far, I know we haven’t planned anything for this weekend. So, who else would need your attention?” Ann explicated.

“You have really carefully orchestrated this, have you?” Anne muttered, putting on her glasses. 

“I guess, cleverly so, you just seem so surprised,” Ann beamed smugly. She was focused on the road, simply looking at Anne from time to time to flash her a toothy smile. She wore a distressed denim shirt; the sleeves were folded to her elbows. She wore high-rise black jeans and ankle boots. She had a pair of aviators on, Anne thought she looked a bit boyish but still feminine.

“Yes, I am certainly surprised, lucky for you, my weekend is free,” Anne mumbled. “So, where are you kidnapping me to?”

“Norwich,” Ann was vague.

“Norwich? Do we have any business in Norwich?” Anne was intrigued.

Anne knew that there were many heritage sites in Norwich, being the largest city next to London. However, she couldn’t resolve what was so special in Norwich that Ann wanted to spend the weekend there.

“Just go along, you’ll see,” Ann remained mysterious.

“Okay then,” Anne inclined her seat slightly for a more comfortable position and continued consuming her coffee and toast.

“Can I have a bite of that toast?” Ann requested.

“You haven’t eaten breakfast?” Anne raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I had an espresso and an apple, but I was too excited to eat,” Ann explained.

“Perhaps, I’ll you can have a bite if you’ll tell me what we’ll be doing at Norwich,” Anne teased.

“What? No way!” Ann griped.

“Suit yourself then,” Anne continued to munch on her toast.

Ann could only pout; she was too stubborn to give in. Anne resisted the urge to concede but after ten minutes, she eventually gave in to her girlfriend’s demand, knowing very well that she couldn’t stand her endearing pouting. 

* * *

Ann led Anne into a luxurious serviced apartment in a boutique hotel located at the heart of Norwich. Their apartment had neat oak floorboards, a bold Prussian blue wall with Damask patterned wallpaper, and white mill work and ceiling. It was equipped with a functional one-wall kitchen, a mini-fridge, microwave oven, and espresso machine. There was a claw foot freestanding tub near the alcove window. A pair of black DSW Chairs flanked a white circular table next to the kitchen. In the middle of the room stood a modern king-size four-poster bed with ornate side tables. A flat screen hung at the opposite wall. There was a big clock above the headboard in between sconces. The writing desk had a big rectangular mirror and a comfortable tufted leather swivel chair. 

The room looked very elegant and if Anne had known better, Ann probably brought her there to seduce her.

“I can’t say I am not impressed, Ms. Walker.” Anne murmured as they entered the room.

“Well, put away your things now and freshen up, we’ll be heading out in an hour,” Ann replied as she placed her vintage brown leather duffle bag on the floor next to the closet.

“What? We’re not here to…you know?” Anne wiggled her eyebrows at Ann.

“Oh dear, you thought…we’re just here for…” Ann smiled. “You know sometimes I think I am in a relationship with a horny pubescent boy.” Ann remarked.

“I don’t know what you have planned but this is surely a waste of a great room and a very functional tub,” Anne was already walking across the room, stopping at the tub.

“Well, it’s very tempting but why don’t you just play along for a while and see where this leads us…” Ann walked towards Anne with a slither in her steps; her face was definitely close.

“If you could just stop spoiling things,” Anne gave her a soft peck on the lips.

Then another peck on the cheek, on the temple, on the tip of her nose, and on her neck. Then Anne just lingered there, on Ann’s neck, peppering kisses, holding Ann by the waist, pulling her close. The moment was getting impassioned.

“No, no, no, stop!” Ann resisted, pushing Anne away. “We have an itinerary. C’mon now.”

“You have an itinerary?” Anne was stunned.

“How about we settle this thing first and then we’ll have some time to ourselves?” Ann then placed a prolonged kiss on Anne’s lips.

“Alright, let’s do this then and get it over with,” Anne eventually moved and headed towards the bathroom.

_Oh, Ann Walker has definitely got her whipped._

* * *

Anne found herself in front of a modern looking building. It was as if a big white cube lined with glass curtain windows in the façade. Ann dragged her to a back entrance with an array of metal roll-up doors.

“We’re in a glass factory?” Anne had took in the surroundings. The floor was polished concrete; various machines and equipment were lined in a hall with a high ceiling and clerestory windows.

“This is a glass-making studio, surprise!” Ann was quite excited, she held Anne’s hand firmly, their fingers intertwined. “We’re purchasing a light fixture for the inn.”

They were in the studio’s hot shop; there were several furnaces, crucibles, and metal tables. Anne had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she knew someone who was in the glassblowing business.

Ann moved further into the studio, leaving Anne where she stood. A middle-aged, balding, burly man who wore a leather apron, a stained wife-beater, and cargo pants approached Ann. They were talking for a while, Anne could not hear anything due to the noise of the furnaces and the clanging of tools in the workspace behind her, the man left Ann and headed towards a back room. Ann walked back to Anne’s direction.

“I have someone I would like you to meet,” Ann whispered to Anne’s ear. Anne realized that someone was walking towards them. She could not believe her eyes but she’s certain that she knows this person, she could not mistake her for anyone else.

A captivating middle-aged woman was walking their way; she definitely looked young for her age. She had long wavy dark hair tied up in a loose bun. Her features were sharp; she had intense dark brown eyes, reedy high-pitched eyebrows, a Grecian nose, and thin lips that seem to be in a permanent scowl. The lines in her face were showing but there was a certain allure with these lines. She wore a light military vest over a cerulean tank top and a pair of work jeans. She had a certain spark in her eyes when she spotted Ann. She walked towards the couple, poised and knowing.

“Anne, meet…” Ann was about to make an introduction when Anne spoke up first.

“Tibby,” Anne nodded in acknowledgement.

“Anne Lister, I haven’t seen you in ages!” The woman’s expression became friendlier; she immediately encased Anne’s stiff body in a hug.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Ann was amazed.

“Isabella Norcliffe, yes love, we know each other,” Anne retreated to Ann’s side.

“I should have known, the girlfriend that you were talking about was no other than the infamous Anne Lister.” Tib crossed her arms over her chest while eyeing Anne from head to toe.

“I met Tib in one of the biennales, she happens to have settled here in Norwich and now has her glass studio,” Ann explained. “How do you know each other?”

“Oh, we go way way back,” Tib gave Anne a knowing look. Implying, _should we tell her?_

Anne knew that she could never hide someone like Tib Norcliffe from Ann, so she thought of coming clean, “We dated for some time in our university years.” Anne stated.

Of course, Ann Walker was shocked, _how small can the world be?_

“Really?” Ann was still stunned.

“And we haven’t seen each other since then,” Tib added.

“For how long?” Ann was still shaken.

“I don’t know two decades,” Anne pondered.

“Twenty-one years to be exact,” Tib supplied.

“But it’s all behind us, right?” Anne wanted to clear the air.

“Of course,” Tib muttered just to be polite.

Given the awkward situation, Anne didn’t want to interact so much with Tib but neither can they leave right away, it would be rude. Especially when Ann carefully planned for this studio visit just for them to come up with a custom-made lighting fixture for the inn. Therefore, Anne was spacing out while Tib was carefully explaining the various components of glass to Ann.

Isabella Norcliffe is an enthralling woman; they met in a feminist protest in their time in the university. After spending some time picking each other’s brains, it was likely that Tib was already deeply infatuated with Anne Lister. Tib was an artist, temperamental, unpredictable; she was the spark to Anne’s flame. Their relationship was all-consuming, they couldn’t get enough of each other, Tib was deeply in love. She was looking forward to becoming Anne Lister’s life partner at such a young age, she had thought of it. They were both enterprising people, ambitious, and proud. To some people, they were the perfect match, a power couple. But everything burned down into flames when the crafty Mariana Belcombe came into the picture. Tib introduced Mariana to Anne, in all her innocence. Mariana was enchanting as well, full of promises and dreams, Anne was tempted. Mariana was carefree while Tib became controlling, Mariana was a breath of fresh air. So, with one word from Mariana, Anne dropped everything, including Tib Norcliffe.

Mariana remained in Anne’s life, though she haven’t talked to her since the breakup with Vere. Tibby remained a memory, a flicker, up until then. Tib remained single and had probably developed a drinking problem by the time Ann Walker met her. But she was so dedicated to her art, her craft became her new lover. Tib Norcliffe was a _what if,_ but probably, she wasn’t the first person to come up to Anne’s mind. She was aware of how much she hurt Tib, so she would rather keep her in a safe, locked away. Little did she know that their world was in fact a very small world?

Tib was teaching Ann on how to be a gaffer now. Ann and Tib were wearing protective googles and leather gloves. Anne had excused herself from the entire ordeal, contented by just observing at the sidelines. Tib took out the iron blowpipe from the furnace; it was about four feet long. She handed it to Ann while giving detailed instructions, there was a blob of molten glass at the tip of the pipe. Ann secured the glass and cooled off the other end of the pipe in a barrel of water. Tib was standing very close to Ann, meeting her shoulders and hips as they moved around. Anne was feeling rather uncomfortable with the proximity.

Ann started blowing to the tube to create a glass bubble. Tib was observing her intently. If this were in any other scenario, Anne would certainly find her girlfriend so alluring in such a task. Ann’s firm arms flexing as she carried the pole, her face in deep focus as she blew the tube; such an enthralling sight indeed. But Tib was there, smirking, and her presence just broke all the mystic. Not to mention that she was driving Anne annoyed by how she would move to whisper to Ann and hold her arms as she assisted her with the blowpipe.

“And now time for the glory hole,” Tib exclaimed, smirking, trying to imply something.

Ann just gave her a confused look.

“Glass reaches a point when we can’t shape it anymore. So, we put it in what gaffer’s ingeniously call the glory hole, maybe because it’s hot” Tib pointed at another furnace. “We heat it up so we can shape it some more.” She winked.

Anne wasn’t very pleased.

When Ann was happy with the shape of the amber colored glass, Tib rolled the glass over a marver. Tib eventually took a tweezer to remove the hot glass to prepare it for cooling.

They spent the entire afternoon at the studio. Tib was deliberately flirting with Ann, much to Anne’s annoyance.

* * *

Tib would finish the actual works for the lighting fixture and she would be sending it to Halifax once it is finished. Ann enjoined Anne to finalize the details for the piece, but Anne wasn’t concentrating, she was too distracted with other things. Slightly irritated by Anne’s behavior, Ann decided to stop for the day and thanked Tib for her time.

But before the couple left, Ann excused herself to go to the toilet and Tib eventually had some time alone with Anne.

“You worry too much, Anne.” Tib muttered. Anne was standing at the doorway of the studio.

“What do you mean?” Anne speculated. Tib was standing next to her.

“You have something ideal right in front of you, why would you allow yourself to be bothered by so many things?” Tib cajoled. “You haven’t changed a bit; I thought time might have shaped you?” She added.

“Hey,” Anne’s expression was softer now. “I know I wasn’t good with apologies back then, but you know how sorry I am, right?”

“So, things didn’t work out in Hastings then? That’s why you’re back in Halifax?” Tib mumbled.

“You know about Hastings?” Anne wondered.

“Hmm, I have my ways, believe it or not. You’re not very easy to forget you know,” Tib simpered.

“But it was probably for the best, look where I am now,” Anne pointed out.

“Is Mariana still hanging around?” Tib asked without looking at Anne.

“I haven’t been in touch with her for quite a while. I think I need a break from her,” Anne muttered.

“She still has that hold on you, does she? Is Charles still alive?” Tib muffled while lighting a cigarette.

“I suppose, he has Alzheimer's,” Anne informed nonchalantly.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Tib took a drag from her cigarette.

Actually, Mariana had contacted her several times after Vere had left her but Anne only ignored her calls and messages. When Anne returned to Halifax, she continued to ignore Mariana’s calls deliberately. Mariana was the last person in her mind.

“You should try to quit that,” Anne pointed at Tib’s cigarette.

“You know I’m not a quitter, Anne.” Tib gave her a knowing look. “But I do know when to stop.” She flicked her half-finished cigarette.

“It’s bad for you, you know,” Anne pointed out.

“I know,” Tib agreed. “But you do agree that from time to time, we need a little vice. Some obsession in our life, just to make us feel alive.” Tib remarked somberly.

“I’m really sorry, Tib,” Anne muttered. “You know how blasé and immature I was back then, if only I could…”

“No, the point is you can’t, you can’t undo the past. Actually, I think I owe you, Anne.” Tib interrupted.

Anne just gave her a worried look, searching for more enlightenment.

“You broke my heart, you really did, I was really so shattered back then and all I could think of was how you walked away with Mariana. But after knowing that you guys didn’t make it as well, you can’t blame me for being glad. It was nothing countless AA meetings couldn’t solve.” Tib thought despondently. “But hey, I got my work cut out for me now.”

“Do you still hate me?” Anne questioned. 

“Hate? I never hated you, Anne. Actually, my only problem was never having the strength to hate you,” Tib answered without looking at Anne.

“But I know that we can’t be friends again, can we?” Anne realized.

“Yeah, it’s just too much for me. Maybe that’s for the best,” Tib patted Anne’s shoulder. “Ann Walker has been one of the most stimulating minds that I have ever encountered. Don’t lose this one. Don’t let anyone ruin this for you, not even Mariana. Don’t make the same mistake again.”

“Tib,” Anne was overwhelmed by Tib’s advice. “Have you ever stopped?” She looked at Tib endearingly.

“Not a single day,” Tib replied without looking at Anne. “But you’re in a better place now. Perhaps I can stop now.” Tib gave Anne a side hug and a tender kiss on the temple and then she went back inside.

Anne remained where she stood, lost in thought with Isabella’s words.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't really tried the craft of glass-making but I've watched videos and observed an actual demonstration. I guess my knowledge is just limited to that.


	12. I Think I Brought Everything We Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you implying that I seduced you?” Anne countered.
> 
> “If recall the events, it might be safe to say that you pursued me.” Ann justified.
> 
> “But it was definitely not a one way street, was it?” Anne delved.
> 
> “No, definitely not,” Ann played with Anne’s fingers from across the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Try to notice that I did change the ratings for this chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

“You could have at least tried to be polite about it!” Ann stormed into their room.

Anne just followed behind her agitated girlfriend. Ann was simply frustrated by how the afternoon had ended, Anne being not participative and seemingly lost in thought in another world for a while.

“I mean, I prepared the entire day for you. How should I know that you’ve been with half the women in my social circle?” Ann continued. She was removing her shoes on the bedroom bench.

Anne just stood at the doorway, shutting the door carefully.

“I couldn’t have just guessed that you’ve dated Tibby Norcliffe! I mean I don’t even have a clue who you dated.” Ann was persistent with her ranting.

Eventually, Anne removed her shoes at the doorway and approached her frantic girlfriend. She hunched in front of Ann, placed her hands on Ann’s lap and started to rub smooth circles.

“I’m sorry,” Anne pleaded, lifting Ann’s chin with one hand, Ann wouldn’t look at her now.

“It’s just, I wanted to surprise you, and I just wanted to make a romantic gesture before we get back to our busy lives. You’re going to reopen the inn, I will have Paris, and who knows when we will have time for each other again,” Ann sobbed.

Anne realized how she made things seem difficult for Ann. Ann just wanted a simple retreat and she ruined it with her convoluted past.

“I’m so sorry, love,” Anne moved to embrace Ann. “I won’t promise that this will never happen again but I promise to behave better next time.” She gave her a peck on the forehead.

Ann gave her a determined look, “This has a nature of repeating itself again, does it?”

“Well, unless we stop bumping into people from my past,” Anne thought.

“I mean, how could I know? Have you dated every lesbian in the continent?” Ann accused.

“Well, not all of them were lesbians…” Anne started.

“Oh, do shut up!” Ann jerked from Anne’s hold. “Sit down; we’ll talk about this right now.” Ann gestured at the space beside her.

“So, we’ll spend this supposedly romantic holiday talking about my exes?” Anne raised an eyebrow.

“Sit down, I’m ordering in,” Ann moved to the side table to check the room service menu. “You owe me this, Ms. Lister. I don’t want to be caught blindsided ever again.”

* * *

After taking their showers, Ann and Anne shared portions of scallops, sea bass, sticky toffee pudding and a bottle of wine. Anne was in her pair of short sleeve silk pajamas and Ann in a dark blue satin kimono robe with floral prints. If Anne knew any better, Ann wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath it, her smooth legs were peaking as she crossed and uncrossed her legs while eating. She knew that Ann wasn’t in the mood for any carnal thoughts but she just couldn’t help it. There was this thick air between them that they needed to clear out first.

Their conversation went on and on, Anne thought that she couldn’t talk about everyone, that’s also besides the fact that she couldn’t remember all the women in her life. Therefore, Ann simply urged her to talk about those who mattered, those who were significant. Anne talked about Eliza Raine, her high-school girlfriend who helped her step outside of the closet. Eliza was a turning point in her life, but she just moved on when they went to different universities. Of course, Anne gave detailed accounts of her relationship with Tibby Norcliffe. If Ann wasn’t the jealous type, she realized that Tib and Anne could have been perfect for each other. She even grasped that it was possibly not the best idea to reunite both women, hence, Anne’s reaction. But Anne assured her over and over again that Tibby was certainly complicated and unwarranted at this point. They were too similar and similar poles do nothing but simply to repel each other, it was bound to combust at some point. Then, they arrived at the matter of Mariana Belcombe.

“She ruined us, Mariana,” Anne went on.

“But I don’t understand you, if you had such strong feelings for Tib back then. Why did you chose Mariana?” Ann speculated.

“Well, at some point, Tibby became controlling. She was on a warpath, always looking for me, always so doting. Mariana was the opposite of that; she just let me be. In retrospect, I think I did it to spite Tibby,” Anne gathered. “So, I stayed with Mariana, but by the time I was tired of all the uncaring, unthinking, blithe lifestyle, it was too late. Mariana didn’t want a commitment, she just strung me around, always making sure that I was close enough. I just couldn’t go back to Tibby and prove her right. Tibby and I just hurt each other so much; it was irreparable. My pride just ate me up,” Anne recollected.

“So, you stayed with Mariana, instead?” Ann was baffled. “I assume you regretted it.”

“Mariana was non-committal; I knew it from the start. She just wanted to keep me dangling, she just always wanted to feel wanted, by absolutely anyone for that matter,” Anne explained remorsefully.

Ann just gave Anne an apologetic look from across the table.

“Then Charles Lawton happened, she got married to a man more than twice her age. It was nothing I really expected of her, I couldn’t really understand it up until now,” Anne related. “I can’t say I didn’t feel betrayed after that but at that time, I got the job at Hastings and I met Vere soon after.” Anne continued.

“Vere, the lobster and cleaver Vere?” Ann clarified.

“Yes, the very reason why I left Hastings.” Anne confirmed.

“Well, I guess I got Vere to thank for,” Ann discerned.

Anne just gave Ann a raised eyebrow.

“Her loss, my gain,” Ann shrugged her shoulders. “So, I guess, I have no one to worry about then?” Ann probed.

Anne shook her head from side to side.

“Not even Mariana?” Ann confirmed.

“No one, not even Mariana.” Anne reached for Ann’s hand from across the table.

The couple shared a longing look for a moment.

“How about you, Ann? Should I be worried about someone?” It was Anne’s turn to ask.

“Well, even if we account the men who sometimes misread me in bars and in the streets, I guess there’s nothing to worry about.” Ann shared nonchalantly.

“Not even an obsessive ex who follows you online?” Anne joked.

“Cath has already tried to set me up with people before but I really haven’t given them much thought,” Ann shared.

“You mean not one person from school or the art world? I suppose women like Tibby would be throwing themselves at you in those exhibit openings,” Anne imagined.

“Unlike you, Ms. Lister, I am very good with compartmentalizing and I can also tell business from pleasure.” Ann kidded.

“Are you implying that I seduced you?” Anne countered.

“If recall the events, it might be safe to say that you pursued me.” Ann justified.

“But it was definitely not a one way street, was it?” Anne delved.

“No, definitely not,” Ann played with Anne’s fingers from across the table.

“Does this mean that you’ve never been with anyone?” Anne realized.

“You know, I don’t know what you must think of me. I mean I’ve been to a few dates but I guess no one really was worth the while,” Ann elucidated in a low whisper.

“Does this mean I’m your first then?” Anne comprehended.

“Yes, Anne…you’re my first actual relationship.” Ann established.

With that affirmation, Anne stood up from her seat and urged Ann to stand up, bringing their lips together.

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Anne whispered as the tip of her nose touched Ann’s earlobe.

They were in bed now, the remaining light came from the sconces above them, whatever remainder of their dinner forgotten in a tray on the table. Anne who was still in her silk pajamas was hovering above Ann. Ann was sprawled on the bed next to a sea of pillows, writhing below Anne, still fully covered by her robe.

“Never been surer,” Ann replies.

With Ann’s response, Anne gives her another deep kiss. Anne gets up almost sitting on top of Ann’s hips. Their pelvises touch for the first time. Ann couldn’t contain her reaction, even with so much clothing, she could already feel Anne’s need. Anne gives her a once over, Ann’s tousled hair glowed in the glimmer of the low light. Ann’s pupils constrict as an effect of the light coming from above, Anne could make out how blue it was. She could just drown in that sea. Anne searched for the hem of her robe; she reached out for the sash and gave it a tug. The robe fell open, she was definitely right, Ann wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Ow, you are such a minx,” Anne smirked.

“Will this keep you interested Ms. Lister?” Ann replied suggestively.

“Definitely,” Anne nodded.

Ann’s body was slim; she had slender limbs. Ann stretched her arms to wrap it around Anne’s neck, her pectoral muscles were defined under the glare of the soft light. Anne kissed her, from the armpit up to the collarbone and down across her lower chest. Anne felt goosebumps rise as she grazed through one of Ann’s arms. Then, she reached her sternum; she could smell a hint of Ann’s lotion. It had a whiff of milk and probably a little bit of mint, again, this was nothing she expected of Ann. Anne reached Ann’s breasts; it was a perfectly round pair. Her nipples and areolas were deep pink in hue, her nipples standing erect upon exposure to cold air. Anne gives a small peck on each one, Ann’s breathing gets ragged. Without much warning, Anne suddenly moves to lap on Ann’s left breast, her hand massaging the other one. Ann continues to squirm underneath her; she trembles and opens her mouth for a squeal but no sound escapes her, whilst her eyes are closed. Anne proceeds carefully with her ministrations, driving the woman beneath her with growing want.

“Unfair…take this off,” Ann manages to whisper as she moves to unbutton Anne’s pajama top.

To comply with Ann’s request, Anne assists her trembling hands and the pajama top is off within seconds. Ann twists to remove Anne’s bottoms; with one swift motion, she pulls down the garment. Anne kicks the bottoms that was tangled in one of her feet. Anne is now left with a black sports bra and a seamless black panty.

“You have too many clothes on, Anne.” Ann necessitated.

“Unlike you, I certainly wasn’t prepared for this,” Anne badgered.

Ann pulled her into another lip lock but her hands moved to unhook Anne’s bra and pushed down her undergarment to her thighs. Anne wriggled to get rid of the offensive underwear. Now, with all the boundaries removed between them, Ann gathered everything on top of her. With dilated eyes and an almost aching look, Anne Lister was finally naked on top of her. Anne managed to balance herself with both arms with only their lower extremities touching. Ann pulled Anne closer by the hips; she sucked on Anne’s neck, then her clavicles, down to the valley in between her breasts. Anne moves further down to Ann’s stomach, she doesn’t have defined abdominal muscles but they were firm. Anne slowly slithers down to Ann’s pelvic bone, Ann’s wiggles as she feels Anne’s breath. Anne tries to hold her in place with both hands on her thighs. Anne leaves a soft peck on top of the small patch of hair on Ann’s mound. She slides to kiss Ann’s groin area; Ann squirms. Anne continues to suck on the canal between Ann’s torso and thigh, Ann takes a sharp intake of breath.

“Should I continue?” Anne seeks for approval.

Ann just nods enthusiastically in reply.

Anne could smell Ann’s arousal, but she couldn’t just dive in yet. This sense of yearning, this delay of desire, it is making her damp for her own comfort. Anne moves lower, she spread Ann’s legs wider, her shoulder touching the back of her thighs. Anne entangles her arms around both of Ann’s thighs; her fingers spread her. She settles at her prepuce, the slightly stretches that fold of skin and looks for her mark. Then, as soon as she finds her aching knob, in one swift motion, she gives it a slow lick. Ann’s lower body follows but Anne holds her in place. She laps over Ann’s other lips, Ann is buckling seemingly gasping for air. She whirls her tongue just outside her opening, Ann’s juices fills her mouth. Eventually, she goes back to her clitoris, sucking and lapping until Ann is nothing but a writhing, screaming mess. She would hear expletives uttered, but Ann had clamped on her head with her thighs and all Anne hears are muffled sounds. Ultimately, with one long firm flick of her tongue from Ann’s opening up to her clitoris, Ann shakes and holds her head resolutely in place. Then just like that, Anne Lister had Ann Walker undone. Anne takes a breath until Ann releases her from her grip. Anne slides upward, wiping the dribble on her chin at the back of her hand. Ann meets her with a long sultry kiss.

“That was just…” Ann was out of breath with beads of sweat on her forehead. 

Anne just gave her a smug smile.

“Can I touch you?” Ann pleaded. “I want to touch you.”

“Let me show you how I want it first.”

Without warning, Anne cupped Ann’s mound once again. She could still feel the sultry remnants of Ann’s arousal. With her left hand, she flicked Ann’s clit with her thumb; it was still sensitive. Ann buckled her hips, seemingly leading Anne to follow a certain pace.

“Would this be okay?” Anne asked.

“Yes,” Ann answered in a breathy moan.

Anne continued with her movements below; she began to suck on Ann’s right breast once again. Anne cupped Ann, allowing her to rub herself on a steady pace on her palm. Realizing that Ann was wet enough, Anne rubbed a finger around her orifice. Then, in a slow careful motion, she had entered Ann. Anne could feel Ann’s fingernails dig unto her back, she made a hushed pant. Ann had her eyes closed, her eyebrows met, her face was scrunched up.

“Tell me if this hurts,” Anne reminds her.

“Please, just go on…” Ann urges.

Then as Anne enters her fully with one finger, she reaches a soft spongey spot inside. This undoes Ann; she shakes with a shock. As Anne had hit the spot, she begins to move, enters and re-enters Ann in a slow rhythm. As Ann adjusts into the feeling, Anne increases her pace. Feeling that it is safe enough to continue, she begins to pound into her. Then she finally adds another finger, sliding smoothly in and out. Ann holds her tighter, her breath ragged. Anne continues to pump into Ann, hitting the same spongey spot repeatedly, her palm grazing Ann’s clit as she goes along. Then she feels it, in one sharp intake, Ann clenches around her fingers. Ann clenches hard and she eventually sets her own pace, rubbing herself on Anne’s palm uncontrollably. Then it hits her, her second orgasm. Ann bites into Anne’s shoulder, trying not to shriek so loud. As Ann’s breathing regulates, Anne slowly pulls her fingers out of her. Ann smiles underneath Anne, shaking her head.

“That was just…” Ann was out of breath, her sweaty chest moving up and down to regulate her breathing.

“Breathtaking isn’t it?” Anne lifts her fingers to her mouth to drink on Ann’s essence when she stops to take a second look.

At the tip of her middle finger, she notices a tint of red. She brings it up to her nose to confirm, it smells of iron.

“Ann?” Anne shows her finger.

Ann looks at her in astonishment.

“It this what I think it is?” Anne wonders.

“It’s normal isn’t it?” Ann was suddenly worried.

“Well, it doesn’t happen to everyone,” Anne explains. “I’ve actually never experienced this before to be honest.”

“Well, honestly, it’s the first time that I have allowed somebody to do that,” Ann whispered.

Anne just gave her an endearing smile and a kiss on her temple.

“So, we shouldn’t worry about anything?” Ann was muddled.

“Can I hold you?” Anne dropped to Ann’s side, spooning her in a tight hug.

“Is it my turn now?” Ann wondered.

“In a minute,” Anne murmured.

They lay in silence for a little while, Anne hugging Ann tight, Ann drawing circles on her arms. Then they did make good use of the room. Making good use of the shower, the tub in the alcove, and perhaps testing the strength of the four-poster bed. The women took turns undoing each other, pushing each other to the limits, finding each other’s idiosyncrasies. They kept it up until Sunday evening. Anne drove the car on their return trip, Ann was too sore to move.

* * *


	13. Don’t Look Back (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, you think she won’t hurt me?” Anne confides.
> 
> “Actually, I hope you don’t mess this up because I think it’s you who has the capacity to hurt her,” Marian warns.

* * *

The afternoon heat coated their skin, it painted the studio with a stark grainy orange light. Coffee cups, coasters, and dishes were scattered all over the large wooden dining table. Ann Walker locked up her doors for the first time in the longest time. 

_I wait for you  
I don't know why  
All I know is I can't hide  
At this temperature you could take over my mind_

Corrine Bailey Rae’s _Enchantment_ was droning in the background. Shadows drifted under the sunset hues, seemingly dancing to the tune of the wind. Pants and muffled gasps came from the bedroom, an entanglement of covers flowed down to the floor. 

_I wait for you  
I'm mesmerized  
This love is like a potion in disguise  
I'd tightrope walk with a blindfold on my eyes_

Anne holds on to Ann’s shoulders, she grips on her back like grappling for life itself, every breath has taken her away to some place unknown. She holds her blonde hair back with a series of intakes of breath. Anne’s legs are wrapped around Ann’s torso. Ann’s right hand is entrapped between Anne’s thighs; her limb is pumping vigorously in a steady rhythm. 

_It's the kind of sleepwalk that never ends  
A type of loan with no dividends  
It's a parlor game where you're giving chase  
Guess it could be called an acquired taste_

Ann had always found ways to surprise her, being a revelation in bedroom activities. She never did shy away from new things, this woman did not just take and take. She gives and she gives what she needs, without hesitation. 

_This could be an enchantment_

Could it be? Could it be that Anne finally finds herself settled with Ann Walker? She has become the actual spark to her dying flame. She had lost all hope of meeting someone after Vere, someone willing enough to settle with her. Someone she trusts enough to allow herself to be unguarded. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” Anne whispers amidst her bliss.

“Anne? Did I hurt you?” Ann stops immediately, she examines Anne’s face without removing her fingers from inside her. 

Anne realized that she had spoken those words out loud.

“I’m sorry, no love, you’re not hurting me,” Anne recovers. “Please don’t stop,” She urges with a breathy tone. 

Ann goes back to her punishing pace, until she eventually brings Anne to her peak. Anne realized that a tear had escaped her eye. Was it an epiphany? An awakening? Surely, from this point on, she knows that life would never be the same without this woman. 

* * *

“Should I wait for this high to end?” Ann faces Anne’s seemingly sleeping form.

They were lying in bed now, their bodies hidden in the covers. Ann resting her head on one hand as she faces Anne. Ann looked calmer now; light freckles spread across her face, her eyes twinkled under the soft light coming from the window. 

“It will never end, love.” Anne opens her eyes, she looks gently at Ann and cups her cheek. 

“You mean, this won’t be like a honeymoon phase as what people call it?” Ann wondered. “We haven’t been back to work properly for two days, you know?” She added. 

“People define things, the way they are conventionally defined. We won’t be like that if we don’t want to.” Anne smiles mischievously.

“I don’t know about you, Ms. Lister but I have been sore for days!” Ann exclaimed.

“Then, we can definitely stop this, if you want to,” Anne flips, turning her back on Ann.

“Are you threatening me, Lister?” Ann latches on to her shoulder. 

“Do you feel threatened?” Anne probed.

“Between us, I know who’s going to suffer if I withhold.” Ann bantered back. 

“Surely, it’s not me.” Anne teased.

“Oh really, how about we get back to work now and you are barred from any sexual privileges from me indefinitely!” Ann challenged.

“Indefinitely?” Anne suddenly jolts up.

“Hah! Now I got your attention!” Ann remarked. 

“Whatever, you say then.” Anne pretends to go back to sleep. 

“What? You won’t even protest? You won’t even challenge me?” Ann continues to badger Anne.

Anne does not budge, she continues to ignore her girlfriend.

“C’mon Anne,” Ann tries to tickle her but she does not move. 

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” Ann hops on Anne’s torso. “I’m joking you know.” She tries to flip her over. 

Then without warning, Anne simply catches her and exchanges their position. Anne is now hovering on top of her with a smoldering glare. 

“I’m just messing around,” Ann giggled.

“Yes, surely you don’t mean that, you’re insatiable,” Anne begins to pepper Ann’s body with kisses as she moved further down south. 

The dimly-lit studio was now filled with light laughter and banter. 

* * *

“So, how are things in paradise?” Catherine wiggles her eyebrows at Ann. The cousins were having tea in one of the shops at Halifax main street the following day. 

Anne and Ann talked about being too attached with each other the past few days that they needed to make time for family. There was this lingering unspoken fear about how their relationship is turning into something that would engulf them, so they tried to catch themselves at an early stage. Plus, Anne needed to get back to finishing the works at the inn; she couldn’t blame Marian if the latter made decisions for her. Also, Ann needed to finish the mural before the opening. She was confident with her schedule, especially now that she was more inspired. 

It was a dull afternoon, the weather was a little bit humid and there were only a few patrons in the shop. 

Ann just gave her cousin a timid smile as she sips her green tea. 

“She’s that good, huh?” Catherine points out at a hickey on Ann’s neck. She was wearing a scarf despite the humidity. “So, the legend is true?” Catherine inquired with a mischievous grin.

“Maybe,” Ann took a bite of a butter cookie. “I guess she is but I don’t really have anyone to compare it with.” 

Catherine’s eyes bulged from the sockets, she had an exasperated reaction. “So, you’re telling me that Madam Lister had the privilege to...oh, what’s the word that old folks say? Uhm, yeah, I got it, to deflower you!” 

Ann almost choked from the cookie. “Lower your voice, won’t you?” Ann glared at her cousin. 

“I thought you did it with that, what was her name? The football jock at college?” Catherine tried to recall.

“Tamsin?” Ann supplied. “Oh no, it was nothing but just second base with Tammy.” Ann clarified.

“How about that kinetic sculpture chick that you dated?” Catherine continued to probe.

“Kendall?” Ann took another sip of her tea.

“Yeah, Kendall, was it? She hang around your apartment in Amsterdam, remember?” Catherine reminded.

“She stopped pursuing me because of it, remember? Just because I won’t put out after the third date.” Ann elucidates.

“Also, how about Alexa? Tell me you at least done some dry humping with Alexa.” Catherine queried.

“Oh, don’t talk about her like that and what’s with you and dry humping? Alex was the most decent person I went out with. She was thoughtful and honest but I guess we never really had that chemistry. We sorta tried once, it just ended in an absolute laughing disaster. God, we were so awkward, we didn’t know how to place our limbs.” Ann recalled.

“So, really? Never with anyone?” Catherine confirmed.

“Yup, not until Anne.” Ann beamed. 

“Does she know about all your past flames or you lack thereof?” Catherine asked.

“Yeah,” Ann nodded.

“Do you know about her past flames?” Catherine continued.

“Yeah,” Ann answered nonchalantly. 

“I’m not getting anything I don’t already know, I am?” Catherine realized.

“Would you ever stop gossiping?” Ann pleaded.

“Nope,” Catherine took a sip of her tea.

“Well, you’re not getting anything from me.” Ann chuckled.

* * *

“How’s Ann?” Marian muttered, she had to drag her sister to a linen and bath supplies showroom. They were about to purchase new bath, face, and hand towels. They needed new bed sheets and covers, duvets, rugs, and robes for the inn. 

“She’s well,” Anne moves to inspect a beige bed sheet.

“That’s all? After that holiday at Norwich and at her studio, that’s all you have to say?” Marian pondered.

“We’re fine, actually better than fine. I mean what should I say?” Anne raised an eyebrow at her sister. “Should I tell you about the earth shattering sex that we typically have?” 

“Goodness, woman! I am not interested in that,” Marian pokes her sister’s shoulder. “Unless that’s all you do these days?” 

Anne takes a deep breath. “Yes, I know what you mean,” Anne realized. “I don’t know Marian, I guess, it’s quite unnerving.” 

“What is?” Marian wondered.

“How she rattles me so easily. How I’m not as rational as I am with her. How she still manages to surprise me with new discoveries day by day.” Anne shared.

Marian gives her sister a knowing look. “Do you love her already, Anne?” 

“I won’t answer that,” Anne puts up her defenses.

“Look, Ann is a nice girl. She planned that holiday with me. I’m sorry if I didn’t find out that she was bringing you to Tibby’s studio. I should have asked. But you know, this girl tries and honestly, I haven’t seen anyone try for you.” Marian pauses for emphasis. “You’re always the one chasing after them. You’re always the first one to put yourself on the line. You’re always the one who tries. It’s about damn time someone reciprocates the intensity of your feelings.” 

“So, you think she won’t hurt me?” Anne confides.

“Actually, I hope you don’t mess this up because I think it’s you who has the capacity to hurt her,” Marian warns.

“How could I?” Anne wondered.

Marian inhaled sharply before speaking. “Mariana kept calling me the entire weekend, she even left a message this morning.” 

* * *


	14. Don't Look Back (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something about petrichor- that earthy, woodsy scent of first rain. Sometimes people could smell the rain when it’s coming- sometimes we can sense a storm before it arrives.

* * *

Rain was quite unusual during the summer. However, Anne woke up with drumming noise on her bedroom window; the putter-patter was enough to stir her from deep sleep. The rain brought about an odd smell; it wasn’t revolting, it was simply peculiar. The earth produces the scent as the first drops of rain hit the dry soil. There was something about _petrichor-_ that earthy, woodsy scent of first rain. Sometimes people could smell the rain when it’s coming- sometimes we can sense a storm before it arrives.

 _Was a storm coming?_ Anne slid up to recline on the tufted headboard of her bed. It was the first time in days that she has to sleep on her own bed again, alone. It was just for one night for now but she deeply missed Ann’s warmth beside her. Ever since, she was used to sleeping alone, submerged in a sea of sheets and pillows, never has she longed for someone this much. Not even with Vere, not even with Mariana.

There was this distinct type of solitude that only certain people can bring upon us. Everything felt cold and her mind had drifted to Ann. Ann and her sparkling blue eyes, her sublime smile, and her warm presence. Anne pulled the blanket closer to her form, it is as if moments are slipping and she could not have enough of them.

Anne knows that for now, she dwells on borrowed moments. She needed to face the nagging reality that just sat there inside her phone. Anne rummaged for her mobile phone from the side table drawer. She then took a deep breath and started to retrieve the voicemails that were left unopened for the past few days- all of them were from Mariana.

A shrilly voice materialized from the speakers:

Five days ago…

_Hey Freddie, you’re not answering still, please don’t shut me out. I know you’re in Halifax, call me when you get this._

Four days ago…

_Hey Freds, I know that you’re in a down mood but I just want you to know that Charles has not been well. I need you._

Three days ago…

_Hey Freds, I really need you right now. I don’t have anyone here. Why aren’t you answering?_

_It’s me again Freds, I don’t know how to feel. Charles is gone now, just this morning. His brothers are making the arrangements._

_I’m not really sure what to feel Freds. He’s finally gone._

Two days ago…

_Freds, I don’t know what you’re up to but please let me know you’re alright. I’m thinking of you._

Yesterday…

_Hey Freds, you haven’t been picking up. I know you are home. What’s going on in shabby Shibden? I guess there’s no other way then…_

Then she was cut.

Then there was a loud beeping noise, followed by a robotic voice.

_No new messages._

That was it, Charles Lawton was finally gone and it could only mean one thing for Mariana, she is finally free. Anne did not know what to feel about that news. All she thought about was to be able to straighten things up with Mariana, for the last time.

* * *

It was drizzling outside; it was a strange summer shower. Ann had borrowed the keys to Shibden from Thomas. Thomas and his crew had already left a few hours ago. For some reason, Anne wasn’t in Shibden all day. It was a good thing for Ann; she wanted to finish the mural that evening. The torrent had stopped but it was still damp outside.

In an old navy jumper and her work pants, Ann got up on the ladder. Ann started to squish blobs of blues, then a splatter of black, and a layer of white. Ann was like a woman possessed, she was definitely in the right frame of mind and she was determined to finish her work. Ann thrived with being alone; it was only as if in her lowest point was she able to come up with her best work. However, this piece, this wasn’t about loneliness, this was about a different feeling. It was a feeling that she could not really place, it was a feeling that she could not really define with one word. It was a contrast of emotions; it was about being lost and then being found. It was about doubt and certainty. It was about restraint and free falling. It was the battle between rationality and desire. It was what she had wanted Anne to see. It was about being home. Halifax was home. Shibden was home. She was home.

* * *

Anne couldn’t sleep the previous night, there were too many thoughts scrambling in her mind. She woke up before Marian could even notice. She left the manor by sunrise; she decided to walk to Shibden. The ground was no longer damp, the thoroughfares were clear. The pathways appeared as if they were cleansed by the rain. Anne took long swift strides; she passed by the emblematic Halifax folk. People opening their shops for the day. People lining up at the bakery. People reading the newspaper and enjoying their hot drinks at cafés. It was another typical day. Perhaps she would feel better once she sees Ann today.

Anne unlocked Shibden’s front door, the room smelled of paint fumes. Anne opened the windows by the reception area and she passed by the bar area, walking towards the main dining hall. Thomas and his crew were almost done with the renovations. They would simply be cleaning Shibden up and then prepare it for the re-opening the following week. When Anne reached the threshold of the dining area, the scene before her stunned her. There in one of the dusty booths was her girlfriend’s sleeping form. Ann sat on the banquet seat, her head tucked in her arms on the table, her blonde mane glistened as the morning light kissed its wisps. She had splotches of paint on her elbows and her back rose and fell in a steady rhythm matching her breathing.

The wall with the mural was still covered with the wide cloth. Ann was very clear that Anne could only see it a day before opening day. Anne was tempted to take a peak but she resisted the urge. She couldn’t break Ann’s trust, not for this reason. Anne walked towards Ann’s sleeping form.

“Hey Love, did you sleep here?” Anne sat down and whispered in Ann’s ear.

Ann stirred from her sleep, she winced, “Oh my, is it morning already?”

“Did you sleep here?” Anne wondered.

Ann rotated her neck and winced again, “Ouch, I think I hurt my neck.”

“Have you been working all night?” Anne gave her a soft peck on the temple.

“Oh dear, I must have fallen asleep. Well, it was so dark outside and I decided to rest for a bit,” Ann muttered.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Anne furrowed her brows.

“I was in the mood to work,” Ann beamed. “And guess what?”

“What?” Anne was amused with Ann’s positive demeanor.

“I finished it,” Ann whispered impishly.

“You did?” Anne raised an eyebrow. “Can I see it then?”

“Not yet,” Ann bopped a finger on the tip of Anne’s nose. “Not until the night before the opening, remember?”

“Of course.” Anne smiled and kiss the back of Ann’s hand. “So, should I treat you to breakfast then?”

“That would be nice.” Ann leered.

“And maybe a shower,” Anne offered. “And how about a nice massage after?” Anne rubbed the back of Ann’s neck.

“Yes, that would be very nice.” Ann beamed.

“C’mon, let’s go back to the manor, Marian has probably prepared breakfast already,” Anne looked at her wristwatch and scooted to allow Ann to get out of the booth.

The couple walked out of the dining hall, hand in hand. They locked up Shibden once again; it was about an hour until Thomas arrives.

The wind was a bit cool that morning; Anne placed an arm around Ann’s shoulder. They walked in steady strides back to the Listers’ home.

* * *

After a quick shower, Ann went down to the Listers’ breakfast nook in Anne’s old sweat pants and college t-shirt. Anne was already seated reading the newspaper, sipping her coffee. Jeremy was patiently waiting for everyone to sit down. Marian re-entered the room carrying another plate of bacon, eggs, grilled tomatoes, and toast. As everyone was already seated, Jeremy began to speak.

“It’s nice of you to join us for breakfast, Ann,” Jeremy greeted Ann with a silvery tone. “I’ve never really had the chance to talk to you.”

“Thank you for having me, I’m sorry for intruding like this." Ann apologized meekly. 

"Nonsense Ann, we're family." Marian gave his sister an intense glare. Anne only smirked at Marian.

"I guess I just got too thrilled to finish my work at Shibden that I spent the night there.” Ann informed timidly.

“Oh Anne, how can you be so thoughtless, not checking up on Ann!” Marian scolded her sister.

Before Anne could utter anything, Ann answered for her. “It’s okay Marian, I was actually working secretly. I really did not want Anne to see the mural right away, not just yet,” Ann interrupted.

“Surely, Anne, people should not be overworking.” Jeremy remarked. “You’re on schedule, right?”

“Oh, it was my choice to finish the work, Mr. Lister. Artists like me can be a bit erratic sometimes.” Ann answered again.

Jeremy nodded in agreement. “Anyway, you can call me Jeremy; I guess it’s safe to assume that you have been in _dating_ terms with my daughter?” Jeremy winked.

Instead of answering, Ann could only blush at this point.

“Yes father, it’s safe to assume.” Anne answered on their behalf.

“Well, what can I say; it’s not that I know every single thing that’s happening in this household. But I can always deduce that my daughters are dating people since they have not spent much time here or had minded me much recently.” Jeremy informed his daughters.

There was a pregnant pause at the table. The Lister sisters gave each other a meaningful look.

“But I don’t take it against them. It’s like having teenagers; all the sneaking around and guarded responses. I do understand their haste, with their age; they have deadlines to beat, given their physiology.” Jeremy chuckled, not minding how insensitive his remark was. He oftentimes gets away with his rude candor because of his age. 

“Oh Jeremy, I don’t think there are closing dates for certain milestones in life.” Ann tried to lighten the mood.

Anne could only give her father a stern look.

“If you are my age, Ann. You’ll eventually long for these certain milestones, especially if you hope to still be around to see it.” Jeremy explained. “I just want them settled, that’s all and maybe have grandchildren soon. That Thomas boy is a little bit young for our Marian but he will do. He’s actually good looking you know. Listers have fine taste.” Jeremy glinted.

Marian chokes on her water.

“Don’t be pressured with anything he says, love.” Anne comments in between bites of bacon. “He’s typically not this chatty in the morning.”

Marian gave her father and endearing look and then she glared at her sister.

“Of course,” Ann simply agreed with Jeremy.

“I mean, with you and Anne, there are ways these days, right?” Jeremy had a concerned look.

“Possibly, yes, there are ways.” Ann could not contain her smile.

“Father,” Anne felt a bit awkward with the conversation.

“Pardon an old man, dear, I just probably need more allies in this family. My daughters haven’t been very pleasant.” Jeremy teased.

“Shall we proceed with breakfast in a lighter note?” Anne urged on.

“Give me a break. It’s not every day that I don’t get banter or sarcastic remarks at this table.” Jeremy reminded his daughters.

“Well, maybe we should invite Ann over for more meals then.” Marian beamed.

“And Thomas, too.” Marian found a supporter in Ann.

Anne tried to look stern, trying not to show how much she enjoys her family’s current exchange. Indeed, she might just invite Ann Walker over to share more meals with them and maybe even ask her to stay permanently, eventually or maybe they could have their privacy at Anne’s studio instead. Anne finally caught herself from this daydream. _Was she already thinking about moving in with Ann Walker at this point? It was typically so lesbian of her to imagine those things early on._

Anne’s stupor was suddenly broken when the doorbell rang.

“Who could it be? Are you expecting a delivery, Anne?” Marian wondered.

“Not that I know of.” Anne thought. “I’ll go get it.” She stood up.

As Anne excused herself from the table, she had an awful feeling at the pit of her stomach. She was really hoping that this was not who she feared it to be. Anne took long dragged treads towards the main door. The anticipation was getting into her. With a sweaty palm, she opens the front door.

And she is caught dumbfounded with the sight of the person on the other side of the threshold.

“Hey, Freddie!”

* * *


	15. Don't Look Back (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door clicking close awakened Anne from her contemplation; Ann had left her disoriented inside her bedroom.

* * *

“Hey, Freddie!”

There at the Listers’ doorstep stood Mariana Lawton in all her glory. She hoisted there with her magnificent head of dark brown tresses; she lifted her sunglasses from her temples. She was garbed in black; a black silk shirt that had two open buttons on the top to show a hint of her cleavage, tucked in black slim fit jeans and a fashionable pair of high shaft pointed toe boots. Anne stood frozen at the threshold. Mariana dropped her luggage at Anne’s feet.

“Oh Freds, I miss you so much!” She flung herself over Anne’s stiff torso, peppering Anne’s cheeks with kisses. Her jungle red lipstick smudging all over Anne’s face.

Anne remained motionless, her hand still at the doorknob.

“What’s wrong, Freds? Aren’t you happy to see me?” Mariana tried to remove the stain of her lips from Anne’s cheek with her thumb.

“What are you doing here?” Anne managed to whisper.

“Well, I never thought of such a warm welcome.” Mariana was sarcastic. “Won’t you even invite me inside, first? I went all this way for you.” Mariana’s smug smile faded.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Anne almost shut the door. Mariana held on to the panel and gave Anne a quizzical look. “It’s your husband’s funeral.” Anne muttered.

“It’s done; he’s already in ashes in an urn.” Mariana stated matter of factly. “Surely, there’s nothing more I can do about that.”

“Shouldn’t you be running his affairs or executing his will?” Anne continued.

“You ask too many questions, Freds.” Mariana rubbed Anne’s arm. “You weren’t even there to comfort me.” She insinuated.

Anne flinched from her hold. “Why should I? You weren’t there for me at Hastings, either.” Mariana gave her a sour look.

Anne had a good reason for ignoring Mariana’s calls. When she was desperate after Vere left, Mariana did not heed her call right away. She needed to be with her husband, he was sick after all.

“I know that, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Mariana argued against Anne.

“Well, you should congratulate yourself, great job!” Anne spat back.

“What’s wrong, Freds? Aren’t you happy to see me?” Mariana probed.

“Why are you really here, Mariana?” Anne reiterated.

But before Mariana could even answer, Anne suddenly felt someone’s presence behind her. She was hoping that it wasn’t Ann. She didn’t know where to begin or how to explain this.

“Now, what’s going on?” Anne was glad to hear Marian’s voice. “Mary?” She pulled Anne by the shoulder, motioning her to step aside.

“Well, hello, Marian. Can I come in now?” Before Marian could answer, this time, Mariana squeezed herself between them into the foyer.

The sisters were stunned at the doorway; they could only follow Mariana’s movements with their eyes.

“Let me get your bag then.” Marian dragged Mariana’s trolley into the adjacent drawing room.

Wondering what had been keeping the sisters and hearing muffled voices, Ann eventually emerged from the hallway. She had caught Mariana’s eye.

“And who must this little darling be?” Mariana inquired, glaring at Ann from head to toe. In contrast to her chic attire, Ann was wearing the most comfortable clothes, her hair still slightly damp from the shower.

“Ann…” Anne had dread in her eyes. Ann Walker could see right through her.

“I don’t mean you, Freds.” Mariana chuckled. “I’m referring to this curious thing.” Mariana pointed at Ann.

Just right on time, Marian re-emerged from the drawing room. Anne was tongue tied in panic. “Oh, her, she’s Ann, without an ‘e’. Mariana, meet Ann Walker.” Marian continued the introduction on Anne’s behalf.

Mariana’s forehead creased, she was trying to put things together, in her mind.

“Yes, I’m Ann, her girlfriend.” Ann interjected without hesitation. She moved forward to shake Mariana’s hand firmly, seemingly emphasizing her claim.

“Marian’s?” Mariana was amused.

“No, mine.” Anne finally moved to Ann’s relief, she stood next to Ann, putting an arm on her shoulder.

“Interesting…” Was all Mariana could utter as she looked at the couple.

“I heard things about you.” Ann couldn’t help herself.

“Oh, really?” Mariana gave Anne a flirty glower. “All good things, I hope.”

“We can qualify that.” Ann was getting uneasy.

There was a tense gawking between Ann and Mariana.

“Oh, how about finishing breakfast then,” Marian thoughtfully interjected. “Come Mariana, I’ll grab a plate for you.” Marian pulled Mariana towards the breakfast nook.

Ann gave Anne a penetrating glower; Anne wasn’t paying much attention, though. She was too busy minding her own train of thought.

As the group re-entered the dining room, Jeremy had the most comical look on his face; he almost spilled his coffee.

* * *

The breakfast table was awkwardly quiet now. Mariana was eating enthusiastically. Marian tried to make it less uncomfortable. Ann kept herself composed. Anne lost interest with her meal; she was now playing with her food.

“So, Charles had Alzheimer’s you say?” Jeremy tried to break the ice.

“He had been struggling for a year but it was upper respiratory infection that caused his death.” Mariana spoke casually about her dead husband.

“Oh, poor Charles.” Marian tried to sympathize.

“But he’s in a better place now; I guess it is good for all of us.” Mariana gave Anne a knowing glare. “Anyway, it’s quite dark to keep talking about it. I just haven’t heard from Freds here after she left Hastings that’s why I thought of dropping by. Probably, to give myself some time to clear my head. Halifax has always been charming.” She had this phony smile.

“Indeed, we’re glad to accommodate you, too bad the inn is still closed for a week.” Marian inferred.

“Oh, I don’t mind staying here for a while. I’ve always stayed her whenever I visit, right, Freds?” Mariana implied. Ann flinched at the nickname.

“Of course.” Anne muttered, Ann gave her a troubled look.

“So, tell me. Why haven’t I heard about Ms. Walker until now?” Mariana knew that she was treading in black waters now.

“Ow, we just reconnected this summer.” Ann replied with a smug smile.

“Oh, really?” Mariana was incredulous.

“The Walkers and the Listers are some of the oldest families in Halifax. These girls basically grew up together.” Jeremy pointed out.

“I do imagine teenage Anne, growing up here in ol’ Halifax” Mariana chuckled. “You used to tell me that there was this little girl who was so infatuated with you, she used to stalk you.” Mariana knew whom she was referring to; she just wanted to get on Ann’s nerve.

“Well, Anne has also been so full of herself, she thinks everyone’s in love with her.” Marian tried to salvage the conversation.

But Ann had already caught on. _What else does Mariana know about her?_

“Ann’s a great artist; she made a mural for Shibden.” Anne stated, trying to change the subject. 

“Are you in the big leagues, Ann?” Mariana tested.

“She actually has a show in Paris this fall.” Anne pronounced.

“Nice, classical or abstract?” Mariana queried.

“Abstract expressionism.” Ann supplied.

“Oh, not really my cup of tea, it’s too cerebral for me or sometimes it’s a hit or miss, sometimes you think it’s profound but is there really something there? You know what I mean.” Mariana taunted.

Jeremy and Marian just had awkward smiles. Anne was hoping that Mariana won’t really try to taunt Ann.

“Well, usually, it’s the artist’s way of translating simple expression to intricate thought. We are able to represent profound emotions but if there is a lack thereof, then perhaps it’s too complex for simple minds to gauge.” Ann knew that at this point, she should show Mariana that she could defend herself, Anne wasn’t doing it much. 

“Well, perhaps I am not that profound, I guess.” Mariana counteracted.

“So, for how long will you be staying with us?” Marian tried to dissipate the tension in the room.

“I don’t really know, I actually have a lot of time. Charles’ brothers are sorting things out as we speak and they did really imply that I needed a vacation. After all, Freddie hasn’t really shown me around Halifax in my past visits, I was always cooped up in her room.” Mariana implied. She knew she was winning; Ann was gripping her fork so hard that her knuckle was almost pale.

“I don’t know if I can show you around much, maybe Marian can. We only have a week until the inn re-opens and I’ll be heading to Paris for Ann’s show after that.” Anne explained.

“Really?” Mariana had a perceptive look. “Well, I actually don’t mind hanging around.”

Marian raised an eyebrow at that response.

“Well, we can talk about it.” Anne tried to be polite. Ann had a salient frown.

“Well, I guess this was a nice breakfast. Certainly, eventful. Can I show you to your room then, Mariana?” Marian offered simply to dissolve the brewing strain.

* * *

“What does she mean she’s staying here?” Ann was a bit frantic but her voice was still low.

They were inside Anne’s bedroom now. Marian had showed Mariana to the guest room to give the couple some privacy. Mariana had a fuming look as they went; realizing that she was not being led to Anne’s bedroom and the couple had went up there instead.

“She has always stayed here whenever she visits.” Anne explained.

“In your bedroom.” Ann was seething. 

“The inn’s not yet operational and it would be impractical to make her stay someplace else, she’s very particular.” Anne evaded the question. She was looking out; standing by her bedroom window, Ann was seated on her bed.

“Why is she here?” Ann asked. Anne knew the answer to that question. But how can she tell Mariana that things are not the same anymore.

“Her husband just died, I didn’t know right away.” Anne answered, turning to look at Ann.

“And the next thing she does is to come running to you? How practical!” Ann was acerbic.

“She’s just mourning, she needs a friend. Probably, just wants to escape London for a while.” Anne sat down beside Ann to calm her down.

“She doesn’t look like she is, she looks good to me.” Ann countered.

“She just masks it well, I know her.” Anne explained. She didn’t know why she was defending Mariana. But the truth is, when she saw her at the door, she knew how fragile she was despite the rough exterior. Mariana always had her weaknesses, she just wouldn’t admit to it. Anne scolded herself mentally. _Why does she still have this concern for Mariana? She begged her to see her after Vere but she never showed. That’s why she had decided to ignore her for weeks. Now, this happens and she still manages to remind herself with her compassion for Mariana._

“Well, if she’s really mourning, she should still be in London, sorting out her husband’s affairs or crying her heart out.” Ann pointed out. Actually, Anne had a same thought earlier. “But no, the next thing she does is to run to you!”

“I’m her best friend.” Anne informed.

“Wow, that’s rich coming from you! I just thought Mariana was this monster who ruined you to get married to a man, like what everyone else around you has been doing so far?” Ann was livid now.

“There’s more to our relationship than just that.” Anne didn’t know why she was protecting Mariana from Ann. Probably, she understood her the most, she was that person for her.

“Funny of you to leave that out.” Ann had a sense of realization.

“We’ve been through a lot, Ann.” Anne tried to hold her girlfriend’s hand to calm her but Ann just retracted.

“And you think that nugget of information would convince me, otherwise? Oh god, you should have seen the look on your face when was walked in.” Ann pointed out.

“I was shocked, Ann. I wasn’t expecting her.” Anne defended.

“Yeah, she comes barging in and suddenly, we need to rethink our plans?” Ann was exasperated.

“I did not say anything like that.” Anne countered.

“I may be naïve at times but I’m emphatic, Anne. It’s the same look I had when you first came to my studio.” Ann remarked. “You didn’t even have the audacity to introduce me properly. Was I some sort of an afterthought?”

“Oh, you should really learn to give yourself more credit.” Anne muttered

“And what’s with this ‘Freddie’ business?” Ann was annoyed.

“She calls me that, she feels like it’s something exclusive to her.” Anne clarified.

“She has branded you, Anne. She thinks she owns you!” Ann was riled up.

“It’s nothing like that.” Anne tried to reason. 

“Then what does she want from you?” Ann repeated.

“Well, I do need to talk to her to find out, right? But I can’t talk to her because here you are being too paranoid about things that are not even there.” Anne was quite tensed now.

“Really, Anne?” Ann had a look of disappointment. “We’re back to square one aren’t we?”

“Stop antagonizing her. We don’t even know what’s really going on. I know Mariana, I’ve known her for years…” Anne realized that she didn’t like what she was about to say, so she held her tongue.

“Yeah, you’re right. Why won’t you finish what you were about to say?” Ann interjected. “We have just known each other for what, weeks? Days? And I have no right to feel whatever paranoia I feel right now. Here we are just days into our relationship, your ex-girlfriend is here to stick around in your house, just meters away from your bedroom, and that you have established a bond I could never fathom. I was always just this infatuated fan girl to you, wasn’t I?” Ann was winded.

“What do you mean by that?” Anne looked flabbergasted. 

“Can you even hear yourself right now?” Ann almost whispered. “Why is she here, Anne?”

“I don’t know!” Anne was livid.

“No, you know it, deep inside you know it. Her husband just died, isn’t this the perfect time to reunite? Isn’t this what you both had secretly hoped for?” Ann didn’t know how she found the courage to say such ugly thoughts. Jealousy and suspicion had eaten her up.

“Is that what you think of me?” Anne was appalled by the thought. “You don’t even fully grasp the extent of our relationship. We were friends first before everything else, you can’t just drop that.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I don’t know anything but at least you could have done a better job by making me feel that I am your girlfriend.” Ann murmured. “She was insulting me and you just sat right there!” Ann raised her voice a bit.

Anne could not even give an answer to that. She knew that she could had given Ann more assurance. But she could not hide it, _Mariana still had the power to entrap and unravel her_.

“Of course, I should have known. I might have been just a tempting distraction.” Ann whispered, quite defeated.

“You know very well that it’s not like that.” Anne gave Ann a stern look.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Ann challenged.

Ann knew that there was no truth to what Ann was saying; she just couldn’t give her any guarantee at this point. _Why can’t she?_

“I’m sorry,” Ann stood up; she took a moment to collect herself, willing her tears not to fall. “I don’t want to say anything else that I would probably regret later on.”

Anne just stood there; she didn’t know what to say. She felt like Ann was overreacting; she hasn’t done anything wrong, has she? Perhaps that’s why Ann was acting out in the first place, it’s because she hasn’t done anything.

For her past relationships, Mariana was always there to catch her; she was her constant. Even if once upon a time, she was the cause of her fall. Now, Anne was grappling with the fact that she doesn’t really know where to start. _Was Ann making her choose?_ If things got tough, she would just avoid everything until things would sort themselves out. She had been avoiding Mariana as much as she could. Now, Mariana had gained up on her and she could not just lock her away any longer.

“Well, this isn’t what I imagined what would happen, being in your bedroom for the first time.” Ann chuckled sarcastically. “I’ll be at my studio if you ever figure out what you want.” She mumbled.

The door clicking close awakened Anne from her contemplation; Ann had left her disoriented inside her bedroom.

* * *


	16. Don't Look Back (IV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think, perhaps, I’m not sure. But I know that my feelings for you had changed.” Anne admitted.

* * *

“After several glorious days, you’re back to being a home buddy.” Catherine mumbled as she walks towards Ann.

It has been a day since Ann had walked out of Anne’s bedroom. There were several messages and missed calls from Anne on her mobile but due to her anger, Ann turned off her phone instead. She had no reason to visit Shibden Inn anymore; she had already finished her job. _Anne was probably busy with Mariana._ There were only three days left until the inn’s opening and Ann thought of how anxious Anne might have been. Despite her fury, she couldn’t count the times when she just wanted to run to Anne’s aid, walk up to Mariana, and sort everything herself once and for all. Instead, she wallowed with her pride and started packing her things for Paris. As intended, she won’t be leaving until the inn re-opens, she has already sent crates of her work via courier the previous week. She will simply need to help set up when she arrives and Anne would follow after things are settled at Shibden. _But nothing is certain anymore, not when there’s this lingering silence between them._

Somehow, her bitter feelings had already simmered. She had played back their argument in Anne’s too many times in her mind. _Did she overreact? Was it wrong to be suspicious?_ After all, it was her first encounter with Mariana and she could just sense how she was able to cloud Anne’s judgments with just her presence. Anne wasn’t even acting like her usual cocky and prevailing self, she seemed to be always lost in thought, calculating her every move. _Anne Lister was right; Ann did not understand her relationship with this woman._

“It’s nothing out of the ordinary.” Ann pondered. Her head and back laid on the floor and her legs were up on the couch. She wore black leggings, a loose top dye grey shirt and her hair looked rumpled.

“I don’t understand; it’s been a day, she’s just our neighbor, why won’t you just go and sort things out.” Catherine placed a cup of tea for Ann on the driftwood coffee table.

“If she badly wanted to sort things out she could have been bustling at the door by now.” Ann mumbled cheekily. “That could have been convenient.”

Catherine was very much updated on the accounts of that eventful breakfast at the Listers when Ann got home the previous day. Ann was fuming at first and then, there was this downward spiral, she wailed for some time and now, she just looks dazed. Catherine could just easily go up to Anne Lister and give her a piece of her mind but she knew better. She respected her cousin’s stance on the matter; she would only attack according to her whims.

“It was so discomforting to see Anne that way; she was quite speechless at many occasions, as if she was so careful about what to say.” Ann thought.

“So, there’s another woman aside from you who could unhinge Lister?” Catherine wondered as she sat on the couch.

“Maybe, I just saw it happen it front of me.” Ann pointed out.

“So, where do you stand here? Have you two broken up?” Catherine questioned. “Gosh, I hope not.”

“I don’t really know, I just didn’t want to say anything that could hurt her more, I just left.” Ann was still looking at the ceiling.

“Have you read any of her messages?” Catherine suggested.

“What’s the point? I told you, she could just go here if she wanted to talk.” Ann got up from the floor.

There was a moment of silence; Catherine sipped her tea with a slurp.

“Did I do the wrong thing, Cath?” Ann doubted her actions.

“No, Ann, you just reacted like any girlfriend would react. Even if they indeed have a very long history, she should have not made you feel excluded. If anything, she could have brought more clarity to this matter.” Catherine comforted her cousin. “You have every right to feel that way. You’re in her life now; you’re just not some spectator.”

“You do have a point.” Ann realized. “So, what should I do now?”

“Well, you could stay here, grovel at your despair and wait for Lister to materialize or you could take matters in your own hands and be upfront with her.” Catherine advised.

Ann could only wrinkle her face with more thoughts.

* * *

It was late in the evening; Anne was finally alone in Shibden Inn. The day was so chaotic; all the furniture arrived, Marian and Sam had to secure all the rooms. Thomas had already cleaned up; the installation works were almost finished. Except for one thing, the chandelier from Tibby’s studio in Norwich just arrived late that afternoon. Beech and Tibby’s crew had carefully unpacked the article; Beech was going to install it first thing tomorrow morning. The artistic piece from Tibby was positioned carefully on one of the wide square dining tables. Inspired by Mid-century modern design, it was a five-light chandelier. It had blown clear, amber, and white glass shades. The shades were inverted to show its unusual texture from the interior. It had a black matte metal frame. It was set in the middle of the dining hall, a massive piece. Anne turned off the general lighting and turned on the chandelier. It gave off a bright crisp light; it was exquisite.

As Anne looked closer, she noticed a small envelope addressed to her, attached on the flap of the box. She opened the envelope; there was a note.

It read:

_Lister: I cannot claim the design for this one; it was entirely your girl’s idea. You should have paid more attention at the studio. I just built it. Take care of this one; you’d be a fool to let her go. –T. Norcliffe_

It was a note from Tibby. Indeed, Ann had planned for this, yet another gift for the inn, for Anne. Anne looked on as the chandelier had cast patterns of shadows on the walls. _Perhaps Tib was right; she would be a fool to let Ann go. But she could not help to falter at this point._ In the back of her mind, she always had space for Mariana. She had always promised Mariana that she would be there for her, no matter what. Even if they were far apart, even if they wouldn’t talk for so long, even if things had changed. She had never had this confusion with Vere. Vere never minded Mariana’s presence. _Does that mean that Vere was never serious about her to begin with?_ But being with Ann now, everything feels fragile. It seems like she needed to make a choice. She never thought of this before. It’s just that she never imagined that the two women would be too affected by each other’s presence. She knows that she has feelings for Ann. Deep feelings that are far beyond what is just physical. But Mariana, _could she imagine a life without her?_

As Anne was immersed in her thoughts, the bells at the front door jingled suddenly, signaling somebody’s entry.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

It was Mariana’s husky voice.

“What makes you think that?” Anne replied.

“Well, you left this morning without a word.” Mariana drifted closer. “Plus, your bedroom door was locked last night.” She placed her palm on Anne’s back.

“What are you implying?” Anne answered stiffly.

“Like a girlfriend has ever stopped us.” Mariana slurred. “Not even Charles could.”

“Can we leave those mistakes in the past?” Anne pleaded.

“So, that’s what you call it now, mistakes?” Mariana crossed her arms over her chest. “Those nights in Florence, in Marseille, in Santorini, should I go on? My marriage never stopped us. We even did it in Hastings, while you were still with Vere.”

“We were drunk and I was hurting that night and you know it!” Anne emphasized.

Before, there was only one person whom Anne had never doubted herself with; it was Mariana. She was a prisoner to her own desires; whenever she was in hurt, whenever she felt lost, she clung on Mariana. Mariana used to be a safe haven, someone who didn’t ask questions, someone who was always willing.

“So, it’s okay to taint my marriage but we shouldn’t mar your relationships, is that it, Anne?” Mariana was enraged now.

“You never loved Charles.” Anne pointed out.

“And you loved Vere? Is that it? That makes you nobler?” Mariana huffed.

Anne was still for a while.

“After Hastings, why didn’t you come to me?” Mariana searched Anne’s eyes.

“I was tired, Mariana.” Anne responded in a whisper. “I’m so tired of playing this game with you. I needed space.”

“So, you came running home and got yourself a new girlfriend?” Mariana was astounded.

“Ann,” Anne paused to collect her thoughts. “Ann just happened.”

“Well, good for you.” Mariana puffed. “Funny how you met your soulmate at exactly the right time that I am free from my chains.”

“Maybe,” Anne pondered. “Maybe that’s all the universe wants us to be?”

“Oh my, what has this Annie girl done to you? You’re suddenly a believer of some soulmate mumbo jumbo? Look how hard we’ve tried Freds, Charles is gone now and you’re telling me that right after everything, you’re just leaving me hanging here?” Mariana was in disbelief.

Anne remained silent; she gave Mariana an apprehensive look. “We shouldn’t have been in this situation if you didn’t marry him in the first place.”

Mariana glared at her, she touched a sensitive nerve. “Easy for you to say, I never had the same privileges that you have! So, you would rather let me watch my family’s business go bankrupt?”

“You should never had let them use you as collateral in the first place! We’re in the 21st century, Mary. Women have more choices and it’s as if I won’t be able to support you?” Anne retorted.

“You perfectly know that that matter was beyond me! I needed to help my family, Freds! I needed to bail them out! I don’t have the pleasure to just think about myself, like you do.” Mariana countered, she was close to tears. “If you could have just waited.”

“That’s a romantic way of putting it. Do you think I enjoyed watching the woman I loved marry some old douchebag? Do you think I enjoyed hiding in strange hotel rooms just to steal moments with you? Do you think I enjoyed the thought that I could only be with you once your husband passed? What does that make me, Mary?” A single tear escaped from Anne. She had so many things to say to Mariana but she tried to restrain herself. Remembering all the past events had only brought back the pain, the pain she had wanted to escape from, from the start.

Mariana was stunned. She only noted one word from Anne’s lips, “Loved?”

“What?” Anne whispered.

“You just said the woman I loved,” Mariana sniffled. “You don’t love me anymore, Freds?” Mariana searched Anne’s eyes.

Anne’s expression softened. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore.”

Mariana covered her mouth with her palm; she struggled not to cry but her tears had already escaped her. Her breathing became erratic, she almost stumbled on the chair next to her but Anne caught her. Anne had enveloped her in an embrace.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” Anne kept on uttering. 

“I’m sorry, I could have been there. If only I went to you on time. When you called me about Vere, I was ready to go. But that same night, Charles was brought to the hospital. You know how I feel about him but I’m not a monster, Freds. I couldn’t just let him be. I had to be there. In some twisted way, I cared for him. He also took care of me, he wasn’t that bad and you know it. I tried calling you. I called and I called but you never answered. It was hard for me, too, you know?” Mariana managed to say in between deep breaths. “When he died that day, it felt like I could breathe again. I know it was not due to the best circumstances but at that point, we were both finally free. We could finally do what we always wanted. I just never expected this.”

“I never expected this either.” Anne muffled, now holding Mariana’s hand firmly.

“It’s so hard for me, Freds, just to give up at this point.” Mariana cupped Anne’s face. “This could have been it, Freds.”

“I don’t know if I still feel the same way.” Anne mumbled without looking at Mariana.

“I can feel it, I know.” Mariana’s voice was flat. “Do you love her, Freds?” She lifted Anne’s face for eye contact.

“I think, perhaps, I’m not sure. But I know that my feelings for you had changed.” Anne admitted.

“That’s what I love about you Freds, you’re always so blunt. Sometimes too blunt for my own benefit.” Mariana smirked. “I hurt you, Freds and I can’t blame you for falling out. After everything that I did to you, you do deserve something special, something uncomplicated. Are you sure she’ll be able to take care of you?”

“She’s incredible in every way.” Anne confessed.

“Then at least one of us is going to be happy.” Mariana whispered.

* * *

Ann sucked it up; she knows very well that her ego would take her nowhere. Catherine was right; she could definitely be upfront with Anne. She could be the one to take matters head on, _why would she waste time_.

Ann ran her lines in her mind; she knew what she was going to say to Anne. If the script in her mind does not go as planned, then she would just be candid about it. _She loves Anne,_ that’s what she realized today. She wasn’t just infatuated, it wasn’t just a crush anymore. She reacted the way she did that morning because she was a woman in love. She was possessive, she was guarded, she was fearful and she had every right to feel that way.

It was already nightfall but there were still so many people walking in the streets of Halifax. Ann tried to pace her walk, she didn’t want to get out of breath and get tongue-tied once she reaches the Listers’ home. Ann could view the Lister manor from a distance; all the lights in the ground floor were still on. They’re just probably still having supper at this time.

But before Ann could get any closer, she noticed two figures walk up the front door of the Lister manor. She couldn’t believe her eyes, she needed to pause to take it all in. She stood across the street, just right behind a parked sedan. She was hidden under the shadows of the warm street lights.

Walking towards the front door were Anne and Mariana, and they were not just walking, they were walking hand in hand. Anne stopped, seemingly fumbling for her keys, her hand still entwined with Mariana’s. Mariana moved her hand to Anne’s arm, Ann wasn’t sure but it looked like she had a smile on her face. Ann couldn’t take it anymore, she felt like she was about to burst.

So, instead of confronting them, she ran, she ran home without even stopping to take a breath. Her stomach muscles hurt but it could not compare to what she was feeling. She took a sharp intake of breath. She held on to her tears until she reached the front door of her house.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” James opened the door for her.

She didn’t answer, she could just hear his queries fade as she run to her studio. She did not stop until she was tucked in her bed. She sobbed softly in the darkness of her bedroom.

No wonder Anne never came, _she had already made her choice._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw some uncut scenes from the TV series that enlightened me with Mariana’s true nature. I also read some passages that she also struggled to make nobler decisions. I guess there are always different interpretations of her circumstances. 
> 
> I borrowed Mariana’s line, “You at least will be happy.”


	17. The House is White but the Paint is Coming Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Enchanting, this person is in love, aren’t they?” Eugenie mumbled.
> 
> “What makes you say that?” Anne interrupted.
> 
> “You would be blind not to see.” Eugenie laughed quietly. 

* * *

“So, what are we gonna do now?” Mariana asked holding Anne’s arm. Anne was fumbling for her house keys. They were in front of the Listers’ house. Given the realization they had, they knew they needed to discuss the boundaries of their friendship.

“Like what we were before, Mary.” Anne gave a curt answer.

“Like before?” Mariana raised her eyebrow.

“As best friends, like before, minus the fucking of course!” Anne emphasized.

“I’m just joking, Freds. Of course, I understand how much you want this to work.” Mariana jested.

“I’m serious; I have very intense feelings for Ann.” Anne gave her a sincere look. “Take it or leave it.” Anne had finally opened the door, gesturing Mariana to enter first.

“Are you threatening me, Freds?” Mariana gasped as she walked into the foyer.

“I’m offering you friendship and my loyalty, Mary.” Anne beamed.

“She must be so good that you are willing to forego sex with me.” Mariana teased.

“I’m not discussing that with you.” Anne chuckled as she shut the door behind her.

“Sure, sure, of course, I get it.” Mariana smiled. “So, things would be alright with you and Ann?”

“You know that we had an argument about you right? She hasn’t replied to any of my messages or answered any of my calls since yesterday.” Anne noted.

“Then maybe we should go to her and sort this out.” Mariana offered. “I’m sorry for showing my despicable side. I just thought she was one of those girls that I could easily shake off.”

“It’s quite late now,” Anne looked at her wristwatch. “I’ll probably try calling her again or perhaps go to her first thing tomorrow morning. I can give her space for now.”

“You know, Freds, women don’t need space all the time. Sometimes you should just be sensitive enough to realize that some women want to be pursued. You should not overthink or dwell so much on feelings. Don’t take too long mulling over things. You might just realize that it has already passed you. You act as if you haven’t learned anything yet.” Mariana gave Anne a quick peck on the cheek and then she retreated to her room to freshen up for dinner.

Anne was left at the foyer musing on her thoughts. It was their first fight; she wanted to make a big gesture. Tomorrow might be the right time.

* * *

It was an exceptional morning for Anne. With a glide in her steps, she slipped on a plain black sweater, comfortable jeans, and sneakers. She went early to the baker’s, purchasing an assortment of breads and jams. She stopped by the florist too, picking up the best bunch of gerbera daisies that she could find. The bunch she was holding reminded her so much of Ann, simple but striking. She took a brisk walk towards the Walker manor; she could spot their caretaker, James from afar, tending to the grass out front. Anne hopes that Ann has calmed down now and that they would be able to discuss their issue with a positive resolve.

Their trip to Paris already played in her mind; the museums they would visit, the restaurants they would eat in, and the nights that they would spend together. Now that things with Mariana had been sorted out, Anne felt like a lump has been removed from her throat. She does not expect that Ann and Mariana would hit it off right away, especially with the episode that they had. But she was hopeful that they would eventually build more a pliable relationship, given that Mariana is her oldest friend and Ann is simply the center of her thoughts and actions now. _She has realized what she is feeling for Ann; she just does not want to categorize it yet._

“Good morning, James!” Anne greeted the caretaker as she passed by.

Anne was walking with brusque strides; she had reached the door of the manor and then realized that it was locked. She had an awful feeling at the pit of her stomach; this was not a good sign.

James ran after her.

“Is Ann in?” Anne asked immediately.

James was catching his breath. “You didn’t know, ma’am?”

“What don’t I know, James?” Anne was puzzled; her heart was beating fast.

“She left late last night; Ms. Catherine came with a car.” James informed, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Where did she go?” Anne was stunned. She dropped the bouquet of flowers.

“Actually, she left a note for you.” James hurried to open the door and retrieved an envelope from the console table.

“Did she say anything else?” Anne handed the bag of breads to James absentmindedly.

“I know she’s bound for Paris but isn’t it a few days early?” James answered.

“Yes, indeed.” Anne opened the note.

_Anne,_

_If you do change your mind, you know where to find me. Ann_

It was a brief note, no sign of any other emotion whatsoever. _What was going through Ann’s mind?_ Was their argument enough to make her up and leave without a word? Why was she reacting so harshly? She didn’t even give Anne the chance to fix things. This silence was deafening and Anne did not know how to interpret it.

“Are you okay, Ms. Lister?” James looked worried.

“Thank you, James.” Anne just walked out of the Walker manor, Ann’s note crumpled in her fist.

James just stood there with a bag of bread, baffled with what just transpired.

* * *

“What did you say to her? I tried calling her, too. I think her phone is dead.” Marian was livid, she was walking back in forth in their drawing room.

Anne was reclined on a club chair; chin nestled on her hand. _Why did Ann just decide to leave?_ Mariana was there as well, standing at the doorway, her shoulder inclined on the jamb.

“You!” Marian finally settled on Mariana. “This is entirely your fault!”

“Oh c’mon, Marian, I didn’t know they were serious right away. I sorted stuff out with, Freds already. Give me some credit here.” Mariana retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Everything was going well and then you arrived!” Marian blamed.

“Oh, so this is all on me? Don’t you think Little Miss Walker is just a little insecure that’s why she just upped and left?” Mariana was prompted; surely, she did not mean to be that blunt, not in front of Anne. “She should trust her girlfriend enough to make the right decision.”

“So, now you’re putting the blame on Ann?” Marian was in a warpath to defend Ann’s honor.

“Will you both just stop it?” Anne jolted from her seat. “You’re giving me a headache and saying more cruel things to each other will not make this any better.”

Marian and Mariana glared at each other.

“What was the last thing that you said to her?” Marian probed her sister once again.

“I told you, I did not say anything more. I sent her a few messages, I just asked her if we could talk but she never said anything else.” Anne muttered.

“Maybe that’s the point, Freds.” Mariana suddenly realized.

“What is?” Marian delved.

“That’s the point, after everything I said to her, after everything that transpired, you never said anything to her.” Mariana pointed out.

Anne had a glint of realization. Then, without warning, Marian suddenly smacked the back of her head.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Anne rubbed the back of her head. Mariana smirked at Marian’s action.

“Stupid Lister! Of course, any woman would feel unconfident around you. You didn’t even bother to chase after her when she stormed out. You know, it’s not in most of women’s nature, being insensitive. But I do think it’s in your nature, Anne. How hard is it to show a little more concern and affection?” Marian elucidated.

“But don’t you think this is a bit of an overreaction?” Anne defended.

“You shouldn’t be too lax about this, Anne. I see the look in that girl’s face; it doesn’t take a genius to recognize that.” Mariana whispered.

“She has always been in love with you, you know.” Marian added.

“I know.” _Anne knew that but was she ready for it?_

* * *

The inn was going to re-open the following day. Marian was frantic with all the preparations, Beech followed her like a shadow, offering support every chance he gets. Anne smiled at the scene, they have been like that the entire afternoon. Anne had just left the kitchen and had made sure that all the food preparations were in place. Their new barkeep Eugenie was already soaking wine glasses to make sure that they were stain free. Mariana has decided to stick around until the inn’s opening. She hasn’t shared anything about her future plans yet, she just wanted to stay and to make up to Anne for now. As of the moment, Mariana is enjoying learning about drinks from Eugenie. They made the right choice, Eugenie was interesting enough, and she could keep the attention of people like Mariana.

Anne surveyed the dining hall. There was one more thing that she needed to do today, Ann’s mural was still covered by a lengthy piece of fabric. Thomas was waiting for Anne; he knew well enough what it meant to her.

“Almost ready for tomorrow, just one more thing, Anne.” Thomas gestured at the concealed wall.

Anne was hoping to share this moment with Ann. If it was up to her, she would keep it hidden until the last minute, just in case Ann still manages to show up. _Why Ann? What we’re you thinking?_ Realizing that there were already a number of people waiting on her, Anne decided to get it over with. After all, she would need to live with this vision no matter what. It was stuck on the wall; she could not obscure it from view even if she wanted to.

“Okay, then.” Anne moved to pull the fabric off. Thomas, Mariana, and Eugenie looked on.

Thomas helped Anne removed the cloth; it was tacked into the ceiling and Thomas’ crew needed to cover any apparent holes just in case there were any. As the mural came into full view, Anne almost toppled on her own step.

The strokes in the painting looked debauched yet even. The scrambling hues of whites, greys, and light blues looked mythological. The blues reminded Anne of Ann’s eyes, almost ethereal. It looked like a commotion of thoughts, no, perhaps of feelings. It feels domineering yet intimate, like bottled up emotions wearied to be set free. It felt like an elusive force, a surging sensation. The resolution of reality in fantasy. The madness of a dream. Anne could feel the mania is the movement of colors, feelings spiraling out of control. The image alone consumes you, a sense of overwhelming feeling. It appears to be like a memory, a memory of a sudden surging emotion.

 _Is this what Ann was feeling?_ Anne thought to herself.

“Enchanting, this person is in love, aren’t they?” Eugenie mumbled.

“What makes you say that?” Anne interrupted.

“You would be blind not to see.” Eugenie laughed quietly. 

“Perhaps she was.” Anne whispered.

“Perhaps she still is.” Mariana interjected, giving Anne a pat on the back.

“I thought you never understood abstract art.” Anne told Mariana.

“I never did, not until now.” Mariana remarked.

The others had left her. She was still stuck there, trying to read through Ann.

* * *


	18. Without Giving Anything Away (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was virtually alone, only the wind kept her company.

* * *

_“...the people who move through the streets are all strangers. At each encounter, they imagine a thousand things about one another; meetings which could take place between them, conversations, surprises, caresses, bites. But no one greets anyone; eyes lock for a second, then dart away, seeking other eyes, never stopping...something runs among them, an exchange of glances like lines that connect one figure with another and draw arrows, stars, triangles, until all combinations are used up in a moment, and other characters come on to the scene... ”_

The ‘fasten seat beat’ sign lights up; Ann closes the book she was reading. It had a white cover that only included the name of the author and the title in cursive script; it read _Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities._ Only two bowed lines, which resembled a bird, embellished the cover. 

Ann did not know if she was ever going to see Anne again. Probably, if Anne settles in Halifax, they might still bump into each other someday. She did not really want to leave Anne without a word but talking to her would seem to be too much for her at the moment. Moreover, Catherine was so willing to drive her to London for her rescheduled flight as soon as possible. Ann thought that she wasn’t _running away,_ she just needs some space. Particularly, some head space. Mariana’s presence was just overwhelming. Ann was never the confrontational kind, so, to be able to speak her mind that day and to defend herself was quite wearing. If Anne really wants her, she would follow. She just hopes that Anne does read the note she left. She was just minutes away from Paris, the skies were partly cloudy, but it was already sunny out. 

She was sitting beside a scrawny elderly with balding silver hair that emphasized his widow’s peak. He wore funny looking spectacles. He had a thin mustache; it made him look like a detective from a cartoon that she used to watch as a child. He was wearing a pinstriped dress shirt tucked under grey slacks. He put away the newspaper that he was reading inside the seat pocket in front of him. He removed his glasses and placed it carefully in his shirt pocket. Ann took a flight from London to Paris. Their flight was just about an hour and a half; he was in the aisle seat, they exchanged nothing but a few subtle smiles and ‘excuses’ when Ann needed to get to the toilet. It was an early morning flight, most of the time Ann had spent napping, if not reading.

“Où est la maison?” The man finally asked in his modulated voice.

“Je suis désolé, je ne parle pas francais.” Ann awkwardly replied.

“Il semble donc,” The man smiled. 

“It’s only one of the phrases that I remember.” Ann smiled meekly. 

“So, I believe Paris is not home?” The man established. There was still a little indication of his accent.

“Halifax is home but I suppose for now, I’m still looking.” Ann replied hesitantly. The man just gave him a feeble smile.

“My name is Louis, named after the notable kings but not really too happy about it.” His smile reached his eyes.

“Ann.” Ann shook his hand.

“So, Paris, business or leisure?” Louis asked. 

“Business but the kind that I love, so maybe both.” Ann explained.

“So, Mademoiselle is an artiste?” Louis deduced. 

Ann just gave him a baffled look. 

“An artist has no home in Europe except in Paris.” Louis remarked. “Friedrich Nietzsche.” He winked. 

“Well, lucky guess.” Ann beamed. “I actually have an exhibition at the Galerie José, a week from now.”

“My wife was an artist, watercolors, but she never really showed it to anyone else.” Louis shared.

Ann noticed that he spoke in past tense. Before Ann could ask, Louis had another thought. 

“So, I think work is fruitful for you. I wish you well.” Louis praised. 

“Merci beaucoup.” Ann acknowledged. 

Their conversation was suddenly ceased by a bothersome bump. Louis took a swallow of saliva; he closed his eyes and held on to his seat beat. 

_Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now approaching the forecast area of turbulence. For your safety, the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign is now turned on. Please return to your seats, fasten your seat belts. Once we are clear of the turbulence I will switch off the “Fasten Seatbelt” sign._

The pilot’s mechanical voice resounded from the speakers.

They bumped into several air pockets for probably thirty seconds and then it was calm again. Ann looked at Louis; he looked a bit insipid. He still had his eyes closed and mumbling something inaudible. _Perhaps he was praying._

The flight attendants eventually got up to inspect everyone and prepared for landing. 

_Cabin crew, please prepare for landing._

The pilot’s mechanical voice boomed again.

The attendants returned to their seats.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Louis finally muttered. 

“What is it, Louis?” Ann gave her full attention to her seatmate. 

“I’m not really chatty with strangers, my wife used to say that I have this RBF.” Louis related.

“RBF?” Ann wondered. 

“It’s what kids these they call the _Resting Bitch Face.”_ Louis chuckled. 

Ann sniggered with him. 

“If you don’t mind me saying, your presence reminds me so much about my wife. She had the same golden hair.” Louis grinned and was happy to observe that some color returned to the old man’s cheeks. 

“Well, I disagree with the RBF; I think you have kind eyes.” Ann noted. “I bet she was wonderful, your wife.” 

“Yes, she was. It’s been a year since she passed. We spent thirty-five years together in London. London was home.” Louis contemplated. “Now, I’ll be going back.” 

“Is Paris home?” Ann inferred. 

Louis nodded. “It was where I grew up, where we met.” 

“What was her name?” Ann asked. 

“Sophia.” Louis smiled gently. “She was home.” 

_On behalf of the airline, the flight crew would like to welcome you to Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport._

The crew’s announcement blared in the background. 

As the plane landed and some of the passengers had prepared to disembark, Ann and Louis remained at their seats for a while. 

“Hey Ann,” Louis whispered. “Thank you for diverting me, I’m not really good with flying, especially the landing. Sophia used to do that for me but hopefully, there won’t be any flying for me after this.” Louis admitted. 

“I’m glad to help.” Ann smiled. 

“Would it be okay for an old man to give you unsolicited advice?” Louis inquired. 

“Of course.” Ann thought. 

“Home is not a place, it is a person.” Louis muttered. “So, when you find your home, stay, don’t get lost.” Louis added as he put on his spectacles once again. 

As they parted, Ann continued to ponder on Louis’ words. 

* * *

Anne panted hard, sweat trickled from her forehead, down to her neck. She closed her eyes as she glided, she could still see her face, undone. The slight parting of the lips as she reached bliss, the breathless cry, it was unbearable. She couldn’t shake her off, _Ann was eternally in her mind._

Anne had been sleepless, deep inside she was furious. She wasn’t angry at anyone, not at Mariana, definitely not at Ann. She was angry with herself. She had all this pent up resentment inside of her, she couldn’t breathe. And so she _ran._

_I know what I said_

_Was heat of the moment?_

_But there’s a little truth in between the words we've spoken_

_It’s a little late now to fix the heart that’s broken_

_Please don't ask me where I'm going_

_‘Cause I don't know_

_No, I don't know anymore_

There was a song blaring from her earpiece.

_It used to feel like heaven_

_Used to feel like May_

_I used to hear those violins playing our strings like a symphony_

_Now they've gone away_

_Nobody wants to face the truth_

_But you won’t believe what love can do_

_Till it happens to you_

_Till it happens to you_

She had been running for a while. She took the longest route from the manor to the hills behind the township. She pushed herself to run up a hill. The sun was already up now, the summer heat penetrating her skin. She did not mind the pain she felt in her leg muscles, in her thigh muscles and even her stomach muscles. She stayed with the pain. She dwelled on the pain.

_Went to the old flat_

_Guess I was trying to turn the clock back_

_How come that nothing feels the same now when I’m with you_

_We used to stay up all night in the kitchen_

_When our love was new_

_Oooh love I'm a fool to believe in you_

_‘Cause I don't know_

_No, I don't know_

_Anymore_

Anne had finally reached the top of the hill. She was virtually alone, only the wind kept her company. She took in the view of the town below her and in the top of her lungs, she screamed, and screamed. She never stopped screaming until her voice gave out and her legs trembled.

* * *

Anne stood in front Shibden Inn, its façade was clean, and the sidings were freshly painted. A large intricate wrought iron signage read: _Shibden Inn-Vacancies Double, Twin, and Family Rooms,_ and their contact information. There was also a subtle neon sign that can be seen from the window that read: OPEN. It was the inn’s re-opening day, it was supposed to be a celebrated day but Anne could not kick herself to be ecstatic. She knew that she needed to be attentive for everyone. Samuel, Thomas, and Beech had really worked hard and of course, Marian.

Anne entered the reception, Marian was there, trying to organize the counter. They still had work to do, especially Anne. There were holding an inaugural luncheon. Her assistants, Elizabeth Cordingley and Rachel Hemingway are already set with the food preparation. It was going to be a bit of a dry run for the staff members, old and new. They hired a couple of new wait and kitchen staff. Eugenie, their new bartender was also set to serve the bar’s new signature cocktail, which Eugenie ironically named _Jack’s Hammer,_ it is one shot _Jack Daniel’s Old No.7 Brand,_ 1 shot amaretto _,_ and three shots cola _._

Eugenie mainly dubbed it as, “If you want to get hammered, get this jack.” Then she just shrugged her shoulders and gave Anne a wink.

Anne entered the bar; it was three times bigger as the previous bar. It was still set at an angle in the corner going towards the kitchen. It had a sturdy granite countertop, dark paneling, and it could sit up to eight patrons. There was a wide black board on top of the shelving. Eugenie was up on a ladder writing their drinks menu. The liquor pantry sparkled under warm industrial style lighting. Now, they served a selection of wines, craft beers, uncommon cocktails, and various liquor. With Eugenie’s enigmatic personality, Anne was looking into making their pub one of Halifax’s main watering holes.

Mariana was already sat in one of the bar stools. She was already halfway her drink when Anne arrived. Mariana donned a little black dress; her mini-dress had a mesh neckline, wrap bodice and bodycon fit. She wore a pair of black closed stilettos; her hair set in a messy up do. She smiled at Anne and gave her a once over. Anne wore her black chef’s uniform matched with non-slip leather clogs. Anne covered her hair with a black printed bandana.

“Hmm, I kind of miss this professional look on you.” Mariana winked.

“You’re not supposed to drink yet you know?” Anne warned as she tied an apron over her waist.

“It’s just a mimosa, darling. Eugenie asked me to try one.” Mariana defended.

“That’s just her first one.” Eugenie noted as she stepped down from the ladder. Eugenie wore a red plaid shirt, a denim apron, slim fit jeans, boots and her hair was pinned to the side. She folded the sleeves of her shirt exposing her tattoo; she also left her piercings on.

“If you’re minding my drinking then give me something to do then. How can I help?” Mariana offered, uncrossing her legs.

“Just stay there, Mary. Just be your charming self when people arrive.” Anne jested.

There weren’t a lot of guests, only some of the Listers’ close friends, fellow business owners, patrons, and the crew who help set up the inn. Anne went directly into the kitchen; she evaded the main dining area. Somehow, Ann’s mural stood as a reminder that Ann wasn’t there for that special day. She was already having second thoughts about pursuing her trip to Paris. Ann was asking her to be there on a special day but she just couldn’t wait a few days to be there for Anne. _She was so tempted to spite her._

Anne tried to focus on her work. The menu was straightforward and a bit traditional; she did settle with the _repulsive trio._ The stars of the menu were tripe with onion and parsley, smoked eel with bacon and apple, and the Asian inspired chicken giblets in soy sauce and a lot of ginger. The faint of heart could always resort to English pub steak, kidney pie, bangers and mash, fish and chips, and their English breakfast offering. Anne went to work, focusing on the portioning the eel and its ginger dressing. Elizabeth was her sous chef; she felt more at ease with the familiar menu. She gave Anne a sweet smile as she set the plates of honeycomb tripe in front of Anne, fresh from the slow cooker. They rolled like clockwork inside the kitchen. Guests started to pile in, Marian and their father greeted their guests, Mariana also helped. After the guests have settled and the food served sans dessert, Anne left the kitchen.

Marian prompted her that it was already time for a short speech. Anne looked into the dining room, her back to Ann’s mural.

“Hello everyone! I’m not sure if you remember me, Anne Lister. I’m probably known as Marian’s elder sister to some of you.” There was dispersed laughter inside the room. Anne had spotted the Barlows, seated comfortably in a corner table with their son, Avon.

“Obviously, I’m back in Halifax.” Anne continued. “And I’m probably back for good.” She paused. “My sister has always worked so hard keeping Shibden afloat. As you all know, I can cook. I actually adore cooking and I get paid good money for it.” Some people chuckled at her joke.

“Anyway, Shibden’s renewal is not just about my return. It’s about keeping family ties and honoring the legacy of our grandparents and their parents. So, my sister and I are working hard to honor our father and the memory of our aunt and uncle.” Anne looked at her father and Marian, Marian was a bit teary eyed.

“I hope you will allow Shibden to become a place of memory. A place to celebrate triumphs, togetherness, and family. We hope you serve your families and the families who would be visiting us here in Halifax.” Eugenie handed Anne a glass of wine.

“To the friends and family who have helped us.” Anne gestured for a toast. The crowd cheered and clapped.

“And to those who chose not to be with us today.” Anne whispered silently as she turned towards Ann’s mural.

Mariana noticed that desolate expression from afar.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> "Where is home?"  
> "I'm sorry, I don't speak French."  
> "So it seems."
> 
> Anne was listening to Corrine Bailey Rae's "Till It Happens to You"


	19. Without Giving Anything Away (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And how about Ann?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow.
> 
> “I suppose that’s rather complicated.” Anne answered despondently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the sudden break but I needed to find my bearings and contemplate on how I will proceed with the story. So, here it is, just remember that after the rain, all the grime will be washed away. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

* * *

It had been four days since the opening; reservations for the inn came pouring in, the pub was not so packed yet but its popularity was gaining traction. It was almost the end of summer but tourists were still around. In addition, the inn has ventured into becoming a romantic getaway, a place for business, and even as an extra bedroom for the locals. They wanted to become a place that the locals would appreciate. As one of the oldest families in Halifax, they wanted Shibden to become a place of memory, a place for life cycle celebrations, engagements, weddings, and even work or school-related merriments. Anne focused with work for a while, trying to get her mind off things, trying to distract herself. The new kitchen was a well-oiled machine; Mrs. Cordingley has been a superb sous chef at this point, perhaps because she was very much familiar with the food that they were serving now. Samuel was back to his usual inn keeping duties, managing everything from the back of the house, to maintenance, to housekeeping, and for shuttle services. Marian mostly took care of the bookkeeping, reservations, staff matters, and marketing, since Anne had decided that they should have more social media presence to cater to a younger clientele. Since Marian and Samuel had been managing well before, Anne simply concentrated on the kitchen and the bar.

It was a tiring day at the pub, it was midnight now and Anne slumped on the easy chair at the drawing room. The rest of Halifax was asleep now; most of the windows in the residential area were dark except for the Listers’ and a couple of houses on their street. There were a handful of passers-by on their way home and the streets glowed under dim orange light. Anne took a sip from a cup of green tea, even if she tired herself out, she remained sleepless. She examined the folded sheet of paper in her other hand, she gave it a once over and then crumpled it in her palm.

“You missed your flight,” came a man’s hoarse voice from the threshold.

Jeremy Lister was in a pair of pinstriped pajamas, he was standing in the doorway with his cane in hand.

“I am so sorry, did I wake you? Mariana and I just got back from the inn, Marian’s still there with Thomas.” Anne suddenly got up; she was still in her black chef’s uniform.

“Mariana’s still here?” Jeremy asked as he moved to sit on the chair opposite his daughter’s chair.

“It’s her last night, she’ll be returning to London tomorrow at lunch time,” Anne replied. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just sit down,” Jeremy motioned to Anne as he was already sat comfortably.

There was an awkward silence between them, Anne sat back down and continued drinking her tea.

Then Jeremy cleared his throat, “You know, I never really meddled much with your affairs but I guess I would need to get this out of my chest.” Jeremy continued with the silvery tone.

Anne just gave her father a blank stare, urging him to go on.

“You were supposed to leave for Paris two days ago,” He pointed towards the crumpled ticket on the side table. “What’s the real deal with Mariana? Why is she still here?”

“There’s really nothing to worry, father, I sorted things out with Mary.” Anne gave a brief reply.

“And how about Ann?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow.

“I suppose that’s rather complicated.” Anne answered despondently.

Jeremy gave his daughter a pitiful look.

“You know, growing up, I always saw how different you both were, you and Marian. I guess losing your mother at an early age; Marian grew up to be more like me, compliant, easy-going, someone who needs a nudge every now and then. But you, whether you like it or not, you have your mother’s spirit. You carry on with calculated steps, you are fearless, and most of the time actually quite stubborn. I always thought that it was Marian who always needed my help, needing that extra push. I felt confident that you could take on the world, that you would survive out there, that you are my stronger daughter.” Jeremy paused for a second. He was becoming emotional now. “But when I saw you stumble back here after Hastings, I knew that I was deeply wrong. I was wrong to think that you never needed my help.”

Anne simply gave her father a tearful look. She moved to place a hand on top of his hand, the one that was resting on his cane.

“Annie, your mother was the strongest woman I knew; I thought no storm could ever falter her. But she was unhappy and I never said anything. I thought if I just pretended that everything was okay, it would all go away. Until she suffered and simply drank herself to sleep each night and it was too late, I just let her go.” Jeremy was sobbing now. “I could have confronted her, I could have helped her, but I wasn’t brave enough. I just let her wither in this life of misery. Even the strongest of us become vulnerable every now and then.”

“Oh, father…” Anne was kneeling in front of Jeremy now.

“I saw you get hurt, woman after woman, I saw you lose a little bit of yourself and I said nothing. Until what was left was only a flickering light but then Ann Walker came along and as if everything was bright again. Don’t stay with Mariana, even if you think I don’t know anything, I know. She has been in your life over the years, but she has always managed to suck away all this life from you. Love should not be a prison of despair, it should be freeing.” Jeremy whispered to his daughter.

“Mary, no longer holds my heart but she remains a good friend.” Anne explains.

“That is good to hear, you have to remember that when let anyone hold your heart, you give them the power to crush it.” Jeremy smiled. “I know she is a good person, just a victim of self-indulgent circumstances. Your mother and I were very good friends from the start, we thought it was enough but we weren’t very good lovers. She stayed for us; she tried because she was noble. But you will see in the end, this kind of sacrifice may not always end in good. If love and trust is gone, what else is left to go on, a whole bunch of theatrics?” Jeremy spoke with a gruff voice. 

Anne was silent, absorbing her father’s words.

“Why are you still here, love?” Jeremy muttered, holding his daughter’s chin up, a single tear trickled from the corner of Anne’s eye.

“I don’t even understand what happened; I don’t know how to act now. My pride is telling me to let her be, let her come to her senses but my heart is telling me to run after her.” Anne took a deep breath. “I’m just so tired of chasing after people…” Anne whispered with a broken voice.

“I haven’t met those women in the past but I suppose they were not worth it. However, I know Ann even when she was just that little girl who constantly passed by our street just to get a glimpse of you. That girl was devoted to you and so is the woman she is now.” Jeremy spoke earnestly. “This is me giving you that nudge. Who knows this might be your last run?”

“Thank you, father.” Anne stood up and kissed Jeremy’s forehead.

“Promise me, you’ll run after her?” Jeremy gave Anne an unyielding look. “Or else I will whip you with this cane if you remain stubborn!”

Anne just scoffed at her father’s antics.

“Go to bed now and go get me a glass of water.” Jeremy got up and walked slowly back to his bedroom.

This was an unusual scene between the father and daughter but Anne was grateful that her typically unobtrusive father finally gave her a piece of his mind.

* * *

Mariana shoved an envelope to Anne’s chest.

“What’s this, Mary?” Anne asked quizzically.

They were standing in the middle of the airport now, Mariana was about to head to the boarding gate. Mariana had spent a few days in Halifax, hanging at the bar; she has developed an unusual friendship with Eugenie but she hadn’t brought anything up with Anne. After everything with Anne, Mariana felt that she was stuck in a limbo, not knowing what to do next. She was finally free from Charles, Anne was her safety net but now she was clueless with what to do next. She did not have the heart leave Halifax if London did not come calling. It was time to sort out Charles’ estate and she needed to make appearances and execute his will.

“I know it’s not much of an apology but you need to get moving, Freds.” Mariana urged Anne to open the envelope.

Anne fumbled with the flap and revealed the contents of the envelope. “A plane ticket?”

“First flight out tomorrow, I hope you’re not too late, go after her.” Mariana smirked.

Anne was speechless, this was the first time Mariana had urged her to go after someone.

“I’m really sorry about what we have become, Freds.” Mariana stated dejectedly.

“We tried but maybe not in this life, maybe in another.” Anne moved to embrace Mariana. “Promise me, you’ll keep trying.” She whispered.

“Promise me, you’ll keep trying, too.” Mariana whispered back and gave Anne a soft peck on the cheek. “I love you, Freds.” Anne sensed the intensity of Mariana’s words.

“I love you, too, Mary.” Anne felt that this was the vigor of filial love. This devotion felt untainted, full of hope.

The airport announcement had buzzed; it was Mariana’s boarding call.

“If things don’t work out, you know where to find me, Freds.” Mariana quipped as she started to walk towards the boarding gate dragging her trolley.

“Don’t wait for me!” Anne cried after her.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Mariana gave her an air kiss.

Mariana looked back a couple of times before she handed her pass to the attendant at the gate. She gave Anne another smirk until she disappeared behind the entrance. Anne knew that at that point, she had definitely let go of Mariana. The pain and the butterflies were gone and what was left was genuine love and affection for a fierce friend.

Anne clutched the plane ticket in her hand as she exited the airport, she was on her own now and she never felt so unnerved with anticipation for the next day.

* * *

The bar at Ann’s hotel looked very eclectic; it was a famous bar that celebrities frequented. Not to mention that Oscar Wilde stayed at that hotel for a couple of years before his death. She had chosen this place for Anne, she knew that her girlfriend (or perhaps ex-girlfriend but they haven’t really broken up yet, neither had they talked, so she’s not really sure) had impeccable taste. The silk lavender wall drapes, olive green velvet poufs, red marble and gilded columns, spoke regality. It was an eccentric looking place; it looked like a villain’s lair, as if something sinister was going to happen any moment.

Ann had received a couple of dinner invitations from friends, her show was going to be launched tomorrow but she just felt so tired physically and declined all invitations. As soon as she got up to her room, she felt so alone, more than ever. The bed felt so big and empty; it was supposed to be a romantic holiday. But Anne was missing in action, she was so tempted to call her but she didn’t want to be the weak link at this point. She was supposed to arrive two days ago. _Perhaps Anne had made up her mind_. Perhaps it was a bad idea not to attend the inn’s opening. Perhaps Anne was mad at her. Perhaps she could have taken the time to confront Anne. Perhaps she did decide to stay with Mariana. Perhaps Ann was indeed just another notch on her bedpost. She gave the naïve obsessive girl a taste and perhaps decided that Ann was indeed not worth it. She needed to get these terrible thoughts out of her mind. So, she headed down to the bar, a drink or two might help her sleep, she needed to be in good shape tomorrow.

Anne eyed a few people talking softly inside the warmly lit room. She sat on a corner seat below a painting with an ornate gilded frame. The lounge chair engulfed her; it had a scarlet red velvet seat and back and pinstriped upholstery. Turkish and Oriental influence fused for the room’s décor. The barkeep approached her to take her order.

“What can I get you, madam?” The barkeep addressed her in English.

“The Usual, _s'il vous plait.”_ Ann answered. The Usual was a liqueur de violette, champagne and lime concoction.

“ _Excusez moi_ , I’ll be back with your drink.” The barkeep left and headed towards the bar.

Ann sat quietly in her corner, she took a deep breath, at that very moment she felt so alone. Soft haute music filled the room, Ann never noticed it when she came in but she was taking in every detail now. Perhaps she should have taken a book with her.

Ann’s drink arrived after a few moments; she immediately took a sip to ground her nerves. She was typically alone when she travelled but realizing that this was supposed to be an anticipated holiday on her part, she had never felt more desolate.

Ann was lost in her thoughts when more people started to arrive deeper into the night. She was already with her second drink when she noticed someone familiar enter the room. Their eyes met and a pair of intense dark brown eyes softened with recognition. Her long wavy hair was kept in a colorful turban, her maxi dress with floral prints stood out and the scale of her wooden bangles and necklace completed her boho-chic looked. Excusing herself from her two companions, Isabella Norcliffe approached Ann’s table. Ann looked so tamed with her indigo cotton kaftan without any accessory on.

“You’re here!” Tib exclaimed as Ann stood up to give her a hug. Suddenly, Tibby seemed to be looking around Ann’s vicinity. “Is Anne here?” She wondered.

Ann just gave her a dry smile.

“So, you’re alone?” Tib looked disappointed. “If you don’t mind, this is a story I need to know.” Tib gestured if she could sit down with Ann.

“Be my guest,” Ann motioned to the empty seat in front of her. “But aren’t you with friends?”

“Oh, those hags can do without me; after all, I have been third wheeling with them.” Tib scoffed.

“You never mentioned that you’ll be here.” Ann inquired.

“Well, there’s an art festival and there’s this guy who does some digital sculpting that I wanted to check out. I didn’t plan for this but some of my friends dragged me here, so here I am. You’re opening tomorrow?” Tib explained.

“Yes, at Galerie José, 7pm,” Ann informed.

“We’ll drop by then,” Tib beamed.

The barkeep approached Tibby to get her drink order.

“Grandma’s Hendricks, thank you.” Tibby answered. It was the bar’s signature drink, a mixture of green tea, gin and St. Germain liqueur served in a dainty teacup.

As soon as Tibby got her drink order, she became more blunt with Ann.

“So, to address the elephant in the room, what did Lister do this time?” Tib took a sip of her drink holding the teacup like a graceful Victorian woman.

“I guess it’s something she didn’t do,” Ann remained cryptic.

“You guys looked like you were over the moon when I last saw you. What happened?” Tib inquired further.

“Mariana happened.” Ann muttered.

Ann talked about Mariana’s unexpected appearance, her husband’s sudden death, how Anne reacted, how she reacted. She told Tibby about the scene that she saw at the Listers’ doorstep. How Anne never had the urge to pursue or confront her and Anne’s non-appearance at Paris. They were a bit tipsy at this point, downing a few drinks as Ann told her story.

“For fuck’s sake, she definitely has Lister at the palm of her hand again!” Tib tried to compose herself.

Ann remained silent but tears were starting to form at the corners of her eyes.

“I could never understand the hold she has on Lister. Her mind turns like goop when Mariana is around.” Tib was beginning to become more sentimental. “Perhaps my greatest regret in life was introducing them to each other. When we were together, Anne and I, we maintained some sort of equilibrium. Anne was more grounded, I was more temperamental, and we realized that, before we started dating. Her cynicism chastised my idealism and my impulsiveness matched her innocuousness. But Mariana changed the dynamic, she was like wildfire and Anne was enthralled. She went so close to the light and now she is burnt.” Tib took another sip.

“I warned her about Mariana’s need to be loved and venerated. She likes having people around, she keeps them close and when they start drifting away, she does something to keep them hanging on. I never did understood Mariana but perhaps it comes with the circumstances she has to deal with. Anne, on the other hand, has this hero complex, always the selfless one, always the devoted one. Mariana turned her into a martyr, I could never do that, I was brazen and so, she left me.” Tib recalled.

“She never said anything to me, nothing about Mariana.” Ann was a little troubled now.

“It’s not a story she likes telling, Anne would never admit to her weaknesses. But maybe not early on in your relationship.” Tib tried to comfort Ann.

“But can she just flail like that?” Ann wondered.

“When Mariana got married, Anne was deeply broken, she wouldn’t admit to it but perhaps Mariana was her real first love. It took me some time to get my head wrapped around that thought, which means she didn’t love me. But no matter how many women, I believe she comes back to her, especially now that Charles is gone.” Tib muttered.

“But why did Mariana marry someone else in the first place?” Ann thought.

“I was already out of the loop at that point but I heard that it was to save her family’s fortune or something. Though I kept tabs on Anne, I never minded Mariana. I’m still mad at her you know, especially with what’s happening now.” Tib scorned bitterly.

“You still have feelings for her, Tib?” Ann teased.

“Nothing that remains unresolved, I reconciled with it. I just detest her for making this happen again, not to you.” Tibby gave Ann a piercing look.

Ann simply gave her a slack smile.

“I guess Lister never did achieve the enlightenment to keep artists around.” Tibby quipped. “She does not know what she’s missing.” She lifted her teacup to clink glasses with Ann. “To fearlessness and love, may you find the soul to match your magnificence.”

“And may you find the soul to calm you heart.” Ann and Tibby cheered.

After they both took a sip of their drinks, Ann immediately lit up, “Hey, Tib, since I’m alone and you’re around, can you do me a favor?”

Tibby raised an eyebrow, “Anything for you, Ms. Walker,” she replied with a big smile.

* * *


	20. Without Giving Anything Away (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne felt like fish out of water, this was Ann’s territory, people in her world and Anne felt intimidated.

* * *

Anne walked the busy evening streets of Paris; the cityscape was bustling. Locals and tourists alike were out for dinner, a night at some bar or theatre, or perhaps headed to a gallery like she is. She was settled in her hotel early in the afternoon, she decided not to ambush Ann in her hotel, she knew how important this show was to Ann and she didn’t want to demoralize or cause anxiety just right before her show. She just knew that she needed to be there, that Ann needed to see her there. She didn’t arrive as expected, perhaps Ann had already made her deductions. She didn’t what to mess up, whatever will happen between them must be settled after the show.

Anne donned a tailored suit; it was an all-black ensemble. Her jacket had a shaped waist with the pocket flaps concealed. She wore a crisp black shirt beneath her jacket. A pair of high-waist trousers and a pair of black pumps. The walked confidently along the Parisian thoroughfares, she exuded confidence but her heart was beating so fast. She wore her hair loose and she put on her glasses, she felt that somehow, it served like a mask, it made her look more intimidating.

She rehearsed the words in her mind as she walked. She didn’t know how to approach Ann, Ann had been ignoring her calls in the past. _Was she mad at her? Why did she just left all of the sudden? How will she react with Anne’s sudden appearance and non-appearance in the past few days?_ She just knew that she made Ann a promise and she was not going to break that promise, she was going to be there for her tonight.

* * *

Ann’s matte red-painted lips trembled as more individuals came flooding inside the gallery, she just finished giving her artist’s talk. Ann wore a custom-made terracotta colored suit, a beige blouse, and a pair of tan pumps. Her hair was set in wavy golden tresses. The gallery director, Pierre Lefebvre, a stern looking man with salt and pepper coiffed hair and mustache stood beside her. He was wearing a charcoal suit with a black turtleneck shirt and a pair of shiny black dress shoes. They responded to art patrons, art critics, scholars, artists, and other guests as they roamed the halls. Ann’s massive artworks hung on the walls and on partitions in the vast gallery. This was probably her third solo show and people either anticipated her work of they became more critical.

“I’ve been hearing good things so far,” Pierre whispered to Ann as he gave someone a gentle smile.

“Really?” Ann was enthusiastic; this was her second show in Pierre’s gallery. 

“Jean Moreau said that your work has seem to hit him like gravity one second and then like wildfire the next.” Pierre spoke in air quotes, citing the words of the art critic. “I don’t really understand it but I guess he means well, maybe he has just lost words to explain himself.”

Ann just smirked at Pierre.

Ann’s show was entitled, “In the Midst of Strangers”, it focused on her experiences as a stranger abroad and perhaps slowly becoming a stranger in her community in Halifax. All her emotions and thoughts were expressed in large canvases of spinning lines and colors of her abstract art.

“Can I steal you for a moment, Ann?” Tib Norcliffe suddenly approached the duo.

“Of course, you’re her date for the evening after all.” Pierre winked at both the artists.

That was Ann’s big favor, she asked Tib to stand in as her date for the night. She just didn’t want to be alone tonight, not again, not like her other shows. So, who better to ask but your only familiar friend amidst the sea of strangers in a foreign land. People had been whispering as Ann and Tib entered the gallery together. Both artists were open about their sexuality to the art world and people could not just help but speculate. But Ann and Tib knew that it was just a convenient arrangement. An abandoned heart just helping another. Tib maintained her bohemian look, she wore a flowing printed dress with Nordic patterns, and she had a beige linen turban to contain her hair. She wore huge triangular earrings and wooden bangles. The woman displayed poise, she drifted elegantly, and Ann noticed her positive rapport with other artists and critics alike. She hopes to become like Tib Norcliffe someday, so attuned with her philosophies as an artist, so self-assured.

“Ann, meet my friend Dolores Narvaez, she writes for _Aesthetica_ Magazine in Madrid.” Tib introduced Ann to a striking brunette with piercing clear eyes and olive skin. Dolores wore a form fitting black dress that accentuated her best assets. She was probably a little bit older than Ann but perhaps younger than Tib.

“Hello,” Ann greeted nervously, shaking Dolores’ soft hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Ann.” Dolores withdrew her hand and took out a notepad and pen from her purse. “I hope you don’t mind.” She asked permission about taking down notes.

“Of course,” Ann smiled shyly. “Old school I see.” Ann eyed the notepad.

“I am just not so technology dependent.” Dolores winked.

“How can I help you?” Ann beamed.

“Well, I was looking at this piece, I feel a bit conflicted.” Dolores motioned at a vast painting before them. It was a 12 feet by 6 feet work composed of various flat yellow lines that just drifted along the huge canvas. There were a few dashes of reds and oranges, all happy colors but the entire piece looked somber.

Tib and Dolores looked intently at Ann, waiting for her answer.

“Well, do you remember the anecdote about Vincent Van Gogh ingesting the color yellow?” Ann asked her onlookers, Tib and Dolores nodded. “This is a homage to him; it is called _Somber as the Sun_. This just came to me a few months ago. There was a point in Van Gogh’s life that he felt so alone and blue and to contrast that color or that feeling, he took out some yellow paint. He tried to consume it, thinking that the yellow paint might make him feel happy.” Ann paused for a while, taking a deep breath. “I suppose, at some point in our lives, we all have that yellow paint experience. Well, this is mine.” Ann gestured at her work. “I thought of the sun because at some point, all of the planets orbit it but no one ever gets close to the sun. Come to close and you’ll be burnt. That’s the curse of the sun, it gives life, all the planets are around it but it remains alone. Yellow suggests happiness but I guess this makes you feel lonely, every bright exterior can hide some sort of hopelessness.”

Tib was caught dumbfounded; she never thought that Ann might have experienced such depression. She kept that thought at the back of her mind; this was probably something that she should discuss with the younger artist later on.

Dolores was just mesmerized; she didn’t know how one person who looked quite meek could be able to channel such emotion in such a gargantuan work. 

“You’re eyes are clear.” Ann couldn’t help but point that out to Dolores. She simply thought of saying that to break their now gloomy mood.

“Oh, you noticed that, not a lot of people would notice.” Dolores beamed, locking eyes with Ann.

If Tib knew any better, indeed she was Ann’s date but perhaps someone else had caught her eye.

* * *

Anne entered the gallery; it was already filled with people. Pierre greeted her by the door; he introduced himself as the gallery director. Anne introduced herself as Ann’s friend; she didn’t really know where she stood now. 

Ann was nowhere in sight, she was probably mingling with art critics and artists somewhere. For the first time in her life, Anne felt so out of place. Everyone in the room seemed to know someone, except for her. People were intently looking at Ann’s work, they were in deep discussion, some were under some quiet contemplation but perhaps others were simply catching up. Anne felt like fish out of water, this was Ann’s territory, people in her world and Anne felt intimidated. A server approached her and offered her some wine, she did not hesitate to take a glass. _So, this was Ann’s playground._ As a chef, Anne was used to food critics, there were some who approached her at the restaurant to speak with her but most critics would talk about her in writing. However, for shows like this, critics were present, interviewers were present and all their questions must be addressed head on. She looked at the program given to her at the door; she missed Ann’s big opening speech. She scolded herself mentally, she promised Ann that she would be there and she just missed it just because she was too unnerved to arrive early. She promised to hold her hand but she just left Ann to face all of this, alone, once again.

Anne stood in front of a big black and white piece, it actually reminded her so much of Ann’s mural at the restaurant. The painting was called, _The Edge_ , she didn’t know the exact time Ann painted this piece, it was simply dated for that year but perhaps it was one of those recent works in her studio. The black smudges engulfed the white and cream background, as if a storm was approaching. She didn’t had the chance to see all the paintings before they were shipped to Paris, Anne wanted her to see them at the gallery. Anne was drawn to this piece, it was as if the painting was engulfing her and at any time it would explode. It was as if a soul was on the verge of breaking free.

“She’s really talented, isn’t she?” Anne heard a gruff male voice behind her.

When Anne looked, there stood behind her a young couple. They were holding hands and observing the same painting.

“She looks so bubbly; you would never expect that she could convey so much obscurity in some of her work.” The woman whispered to her companion.

“Yeah, she did mention some rough times earlier. I just wish everything turns out well for her.” The man replied.

“I saw her arrive with a date; I think things are getting better…” The woman retorted as they moved to proceed towards the other paintings.

Anne did not want to eavesdrop but that conversation had piqued her interest. _Ann arrived with a date, how can it be?_ Anne was anxious now; she needed to find Ann immediately. Having no word from her for days and now she has suddenly moved on with someone. Perhaps Ann took her non-appearance as a sign.

Anne was frantic; she glided around the sea of people, searching for that golden head of hair that had always caught her attention. She halted in her footsteps; she had finally reached the back of the gallery. Some tall tables were lined up behind the tables of hors d’oeuvres. There in one table she had found Ann standing, in all her buoyancy and charm. However, Anne suddenly tasted some sourness at the back of her mouth, the sight made her stomach churn. There stood beside Ann was an equally attractive young woman. The brunette had glowing skin that sparkled under the gallery lights, Ann was laughing at something she said. Ann looked happy, there was a certain twinkle in her eye and she seemed at peace. The last time Anne saw Ann’s eyes, they were quelling with tears and anger. Sadness and resentment that she had caused. Ann could not even bother to look around her, she was so engaged with the conversation that she was having. _So, this must be Ann’s date,_ Anne had concluded in her mind.

Anne saw Ann in her element, in here environment, thriving and she could never been happier for her. This was Ann’s world, the excitement of meeting new people, travelling to new places, and having new experiences. _Would she still fit in this world?_ Anne thought deeply, it was an end of an era for her. She had her taste of the world; she just wanted to settle now, to stay in one place. She was already tired of all of this, moving about, being uncertain; it has taken a toll on her worn-out soul.

Looking at the portrait of Ann’s blissful disposition in front of her, thoughts had started to flood Anne’s mind. She couldn’t be that person for Ann; to lead her to new adventures, to be daring, to be carefree. Ann was at the peak of her life; Anne has just decided to slow down. She would only hold her back like an anchor, weighing her down. Ann needed this in her life, she needs it for her career, and she needs to take flight. Anne wanted to run to her so badly, to tear her away from the other person who was making her laugh with her eyes. But she can’t ruin this for Ann, not this moment, she couldn’t cause anymore heartache. Perhaps Anne was too self-centered to think that Ann was simply waiting for her move, after all, it took her some time to follow. Ann should have someone who wouldn’t think, who would run after her in a heartbeat, who would choose her without thinking. Anne had a lot of baggage, she had Mariana, she had Shibden, she had her family, and she had so many people in the past.

At this point, Anne thought of the photographer, Henri Cartier-Bresson, he mentioned about how beautiful photographs are taken at that “decisive moment”. The scene before her, this was her decisive moment and she wouldn’t want to remember Ann in any other way. She would capture this smile, this confidence; lock it up in her memory, even if she wasn’t the person who caused it.

As soon as she had her epiphany, Anne started to storm out of the gallery. She wasn’t aware of her surroundings anymore, she just felt her stomach churn. She walked on a beeline towards a nearby dumpster and as she reached her destination, she removed her spectacles and retched the contents of her stomach. It must be the wine on an empty stomach, her feelings were overwhelming her, and she just knew that she needed to get out of there.

“Enough,” Anne whispered to herself and she continued to walk back to her hotel.

* * *

The following morning, Ann woke up alone in her hotel room with a cryptic message on her phone.

**AL: Congratulations on your show. I just wish you all the happiness.**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let us dwell in some angst first, looking for a silver lining.


	21. Don't Think of the Other Places You Should Have Been (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne made another drink, if she wouldn’t be able to walk home, she might just spend the night at the pub.

* * *

It had been two days since Paris; Anne came home the next morning after she stormed out from the gallery. She did not mention anything to her father and Marian. She just went straight to her room and slammed the door shut for the entire day. Jeremy and Marian knew better, pushing for information regarding the trip would only ignite callousness from Anne.

The following day, Anne came out of her room as if nothing happened. However, Jeremy and Marian exchanged knowing glances at the breakfast table, recognizing the dark heavy circles around Anne’s eyes. Anne just put on her glasses to conceal such feature; she carried on with their typical breakfast conversation about the weather, the inn, and the folks at Halifax. She was like this when she first arrived from Hastings, ignoring her lingering emotional state and diverting it to typical household banter. She was back to normal and characteristically her usual was not that good. She was back to her proud and evasive self.

It was late in the evening and the last patrons of the pub were starting to leave. Eugenie was humming a tune in one corner as she was drying wine glasses. The kitchen was already closed; Mrs. Cordingley and the other staff had already finished washing and cleaning every surface. Anne had dismissed them thirty minutes ago, some of them would need to get back early for the breakfast service. Anne removed her apron, leaving behind her black chef’s uniform and black bandana. She headed towards the bar, helping Eugenie serve the last few drink orders and helping her clean up. 

As the last guests left the pub, Eugenie moved to turn off some of the lights and to turn off the “Open” neon sign. She then began clearing the table and wiping it clean. Anne took out a bottle of absinthe from the bottom cupboard. She does not serve absinthe in the bar, this was for her personal consumption. She proceeded to make an “absinthe ritual”; she diluted the absinthe with water and then placed a sugar cube. Anne took a heavy sigh before taking a sip of her drink. She noticed that the windows started the fog up and it was drizzling lightly outside.

“Eugenie, don’t worry about washing those,” Anne motioned towards the glassware at the bar sink. “I’ll take care of it, you should start heading out, and it is already drizzling out there.”

“Are you sure, madam?” Eugenie wondered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll close up, take the umbrella with you.” Anne pointed at the spare umbrella behind the bar counter.

“Thank you, madam. You take care.” Eugenie beamed at Anne as she hung her apron, took the umbrella and headed towards the staff lockers.

The pub was quiet now, Anne started to wash the glassware at the sink and then as they dried, she made herself another drink. Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming from the threshold that adjoined the pub and the inn’s reception.

“We’re heading out, Anne.” It was Marian and Thomas was just close behind.

“Who’s in night watch?” Anne inquired from behind the counter.

“Sam is. I’ll be spending the night at Thomas’. Don’t wait up.” Marian replied.

“Good, I’ll be locking up in a while.” Anne informed.

“Will you be alright?” Marian saw that Anne was drinking; she gave her sister a sympathetic look.

“Of course, just tired, I’ll just take a minute.” Anne informed.

“Did you bring the truck? Don’t drink and drive, okay?” Marian implied.

“Don’t worry, here take the keys,” Anne tossed the car keys to her sister. “That’s for good measure, don’t worry, I’ll walk home.”

“There’s another spare umbrella at the reception, okay?” Marian slipped the car keys inside her jeans’ pocket.

As the exchange went on, Thomas just stood there with a worried face.

“Run along now,” Anne motioned the couple.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, goodnight,” Marian finally bade her sister farewell.

“Take it easy, Anne.” Thomas muttered as the couple left Anne to her own volition. 

It was never spoken but everyone around her knew why Anne was acting miserably. Something happened in Paris and it was some sort of a taboo in Anne’s presence. 

Anne made another drink, if she wouldn’t be able to walk home, she might just spend the night at the pub. But on the second thought, she would sleep in one of the banquet seats having Ann’s mural in full view. The mural was beautiful, it was too beautiful to cover or remove. Perhaps she needed to live with that haunting thought that she had let go of something so beautiful in her life.

Anne turned off the other remaining lights in the dining area. The only light left inside the pub were the scones and pendant lights at the bar. Anne downed her drink and prepared to make another one until she heard some loud knocking coming from the pub’s door. Anne muttered under her breath, who could it be? Perhaps Sam locked himself out while making rounds outside. In the dimness of the room and the fogging of the windows caused by the light rain, Anne could only make out a person’s murky silhouette from outside.

“We’re already closed; the inn’s reception is at the other side…” Anne began explaining until she opened the door and realized who was standing in front of her. 

“What the fuck, Lister!” Come from a familiar wobbly voice.

Anne was stunned; she was pushed back due to a hard shove on her shoulder. In front of her was a pair of intense blue eyes, probably seething with anger. Her blonde locks were damp from the drizzle. Her white t-shirt looked soggy from the rain as well, the ends of her jeans had splotches and her boots were mud-covered. There stood a very irate and dank Ann Walker.

“What are you trying to pull off with this?” Ann was waving her phone in front of her. Anne’s last message, _Congratulations on your show. I just wish you all the happiness,_ quite visible in her phone screen.

Tears started to well in the corners of Anne’s eyes. She moved to envelope Ann in a hug but she was immediately pushed away.

“What the hell, Anne? Answer me?” Ann was livid. “Is Mariana still here?” Ann moved to inspect the rest of the pub.

“Mariana left days ago, what do you mean?” Anne speculated as she followed Ann inside the pub.

“So, even if you chose her, she still decided to leave you? That’s rich!” Ann was being sarcastic.

“What do you mean, Ann? I didn’t chose Mariana.” Anne was flabbergasted.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” It was the first time that Anne saw how cross Ann was. Of course, they argued before but right now, Ann looked more assertive, she looked more unassailable. “You didn’t show up in Paris, you never went to my house, I saw you holding hands with Mariana in front of your house…” Ann took a deep sigh, trying to hold her bearings.

“What?” Anne had a sudden realization. “So, all the time you thought…” She tried to piece things together.

Ann was chewing on her lower lip, her arms on her waist, she couldn’t look at Anne.

“I sorted things out with Mariana, she went back to London to arrange Charles’ affairs. I left you many messages, you never answered. I went to your house but you were gone. I even got your note, didn’t James tell you?” Anne informed. “I admit I didn’t leave for Paris right away but I was there. I was there that night. I went to Paris but you were already with someone else…” Anne continued, she was a little bit inebriated at this point, the absinthe was kicking in but she tried to get hold of her emotions.

“You, what? And you never told me?” The information started to sink in. “Also, Tibby was there just to accompany me.”

“Wait, what? Tibby was there? What was Tibby doing there?” Anne was suddenly so confused.

“Tibby was around, I invited her to the show because I couldn’t bear to go alone again. She was my only friend at that time. That’s rich coming from you.” Ann stressed. 

“But I never saw Tib, you were with some brunette.” Anne pointed out.

Ann eventually realized whom Anne was referring to. “I was at an interview, Anne. I was talking to a writer. You should know better than to judge quickly.”

“I suppose we both made wrong assumptions.” Anne admitted.

“For fuck’s sake, Anne! This is what happens when we don’t talk!” Ann exclaimed.

“This is what happens if you don’t answer your phone.” Anne spat back.

“As if you can’t walk all the way to my house at that time or were you just so busy entertaining Mariana?” Ann was fuming again.

“I told you, I already sorted things out with Mariana. Can you just let go of it? There’s so much that is taken out of context here!” Anne tried to explain.

“Bollocks! How can I let go of the thought that you were hopelessly in love with her for years?” Ann was undeniably infuriated. 

“I’m not in love with Mariana. I’m in love with you!” Anne pointed out.

“You really have a funny way of showing it.” Ann was sarcastic again.

“Can we just sit down and sort this out?” Anne finally tried to calm herself, she sensed that they both had made the wrong conclusions and facts needed to be clarified.

Ann finally conceded; she slumped on the nearest chair. Anne sat directly in front of her.

“That day, when I stormed out of your room, why haven’t you ran after me?” Ann finally blurted out.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I just stood there. I admit it went by like a haze. That was my biggest regret, Ann.” A tear plopped from the corner of Anne’s eye. “I could only blame myself for that.”

“You hurt me, you know. That night I came to you, I saw you with Mariana at the front door of your house. You both looked so happy.” Ann recalled with much acrimony in her tone.

“Oh dear, can I say that you had the wrong idea? That night, we talked, we had finally understood. We remain friends to this day; the fondness that we have which each other simply remains familial. That’s why we looked so happy.” Anne gave a heavy sigh. “I went to your house the next day but you were already gone.”

“Can you blame me, Anne?” Ann had her arms akimbo. “You really knew how to make someone feel so secured at that point.”

“That’s on me.” Anne admitted.

“I expected you in Paris that day; I was hoping we had enough space to come to our senses. But where were you?” Ann slurred contemptuously.

“You weren’t here at the reopening.” Anne retorted. “I was so full of myself; I can’t deny that I did it out of spite. I’m really so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too; I just wanted to emphasize a point.” Ann defended.

“But I was there you know, Mariana even urged me to be there, to her credit. She apologizes you know, she never knew how serious we were.” Anne countered.

“I believe you but I’m sorry, the impression I have of Mariana is hard to shake off.” Ann was calmer now.

“Of course, perhaps in the future, but she needs to work for it.” Anne thought.

“I found out that you came, Pierre told me about your encounter. I guessed it was you. What made you leave?” Ann recalled.

“The idea that I would only drag you down. I saw you in your best, Ann. I saw you in your element; you were glowing. God, you were gorgeous. Seeing your work, it exceeding what I thought about you. You have so much spirit, so much potential.” Anne enthused. “While, I’m here, I’ll be immovable, in shabby Shibden.”

“Have you seen what you’ve done here? I thought this was your dream now?” Ann was a bit taken aback.

“Yes, I’m not saying that it isn’t. I’m over the moon at how things are working out here. But Ann, I already feel settled.” Anne moved to reach out for Ann’s hand, Ann didn’t flinch this time. “But you, you have so much potential. You’ll go to places. You’re still in the process of seeing the world and I’m afraid that at this point, nothing should hold you back down.”

“Who said I’m being held back? Who said that we can’t go together?” Ann snapped.

“You deserve to be with someone who can still dream like you do.” Anne contemplated. “I’m burning out.”

“Bullshit!” Ann exclaimed. “You talk as if you’re dying. Don’t give me this petty argument. You know very well what you are capable of. Admit it, admit it, Anne. You finally found someone willing to share everything with you and now, you’re telling me that you’re scared?”

“I will not contend with that.” Anne held Ann’s hand tighter. “You scare the shit out of me; it’s as if we can still do anything. I’m used to reaching out, Ann, always running the extra mile. But I think I’m all worn out, I don’t want to reach the point that you’ll detest me because I’m exhausted already. If you’d met me when I was still bolder, I would not hesitate, but I am not the same. I’m just afraid of flying too high with you, I makes the fall sound so much harder, I might not be able to survive it.”

“And so am I!” Ann countered. “I’m not the hopeless, doting little kid anymore. I finally show you that we are on the same page here and then you recoil. I’m so afraid of how intense my feelings are, we already suffered so much this past few days and it’s self-inflicted. I may not survive it either, but I’m here, I’m willing to try, because it’s you, Anne, it’s you. Could you at least try harder, too?”

Anne remembered her father’s words; _this is me giving you a nudge._ Anne remembered Mariana’s words; _promise me, you’ll keep trying._ And now Ann has the same thoughts as well. It dawned at Anne, Ann was not the insecure one in the relationship, she was.

“Yes, I can.” Anne replied earnestly. “But you still scare the shit out me, Ann Walker.” Anne got up to finally wrap Ann in a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m really so stupid, I’m so stupid, can you still forgive me?” Anne was kneeling in front of Ann.

Ann simply nodded and then she cupped Anne’s chin. They shared a passionate kiss, so full of longing, so ardent.

“I missed you so much,” Ann broke the kiss to take a breath.

“Promise me, we’ll always talk.” Anne bumped their foreheads lightly together.

“You’re the dodgy one.” Ann slurred.

“You’re the stubborn one.” Anne whispered.

As Anne got up to give Ann another hug, she was reminded of how damp Ann’s clothes were.

“Goodness, you’re shivering.” Anne patted Ann’s back. “Did you walk here?”

Ann nodded. “I came as soon as I could.”

“Wait, I’ll go get my coat.” Anne got up. “And how about a drink before we go?”

Ann bobbed her head again; she was beaming now.

“Ann, where do we stand now?” Anne came back with a drink for Anne and her jacket in her arm.

Ann took a sip of her drink. “As far as I know, we never broke up in the first place.”

Anne just smiled. She got up to wrap the jacket around Ann’s shoulders.

“Can we go home now? I saw your truck out front.” Ann suggested.

“Uhm, we have one problem, I was drinking and I gave my keys to Marian for good measure.” Anne realized.

“We’ll walk then, I don’t mind.” Ann gave her a reassuring smile.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That you for bearing all the angst and drama in the previous chapters. I hope we all see the light at the end of the tunnel with this one.


	22. Don't Think of the Other Places You Should Have Been (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m glad you came home to knock some sense out of me.” Anne murmured. She caressed Anne’s cheek with the back of her hand.
> 
> “What could you have been doing now if I didn’t?” Ann taunted.
> 
> “Well, the same way you found me, wallowing in self-pity and pride with a bottle of absinthe.” Anne laughed.
> 
> “So, if I didn’t decide to come home earlier, I would have ended up with an egotistic alcoholic?” Ann teased.

* * *

Anne and Ann entered Ann’s pitch-black studio with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists. They fumbled to get home, the air was chilly and it was still drizzling. They both removed their dirty footwear in the mudroom at the main house. Ann searched for the light switch and Anne never removed her arm around Ann’s torso. As soon as the studio was illuminated, Anne grabbed Ann closer.

“I miss you so much,” Anne spoke softly as she engaged Ann in an ardent lip lock. 

Ann returned the kiss fervently and she made a guttural sound. She took off her jacket and her damp t-shirt immediately. She moved to unbutton Anne’s coat. Anne lifted Ann’s legs around her midriff. She carried Ann towards the bedroom; they never broke their kiss.

“I hate sleeping without you.” Ann whispered as she nibbled Anne’s earlobe. She then moved to remove Anne’s coat leaving only her undershirt.

Anne plunged Ann unto the bed and she took off her undershirt and pants. Ann wiggled herself from her tight jeans as well. Anne hovered over Ann but Ann immediately jerked and escaped her. Ann now plummeted Anne on her back to the bed and she reversed their positions. Ann scanned Anne’s body; she was wearing matching black underwear, it was a stark contrast to Ann’s beige set.

“Maybe not this time,” came Ann’s sultry voice as she went to unsnap Anne’s bra. In a couple of quick movements, she had removed Anne’s entire underclothing, reveling at her nakedness.

Anne could only catch her breath; Ann was already cupping her mound. She tried to move but Ann was pining her down, she then parted her lips in her nether region and had begun lapping with so much hunger. Anne did not recoil this time, she just gave in to Ann, she had unleashed this side of Ann; her dominant side and Anne was enjoying it. Ann ravaged her as if they were running after twilight. Anne could only writhe and released soundless screams. Without much warning, Ann entered her, she couldn’t tell how many fingers. She was so loosened up that she could barely think. As soon as Ann started pumping, Anne was already at the edge. After a few moments, she could not hold it any longer, she eventually let go, and she rode out her first orgasm for the night as she held on tightly on Ann’s shoulders.

Anne was trying to catch her breath when Ann released her only to adjust their position. “I am not done yet.” Ann exclaimed and she removed her underwear in one swift motion.

To Anne’s surprise, Ann hovered above her. Ann lifted both of Anne’s legs and spread her open. Ann then positioned herself in between Anne’s legs; she knelt before her with one of Anne’s legs in front of her and another behind her. Anne soon realized that this position allowed their pelvic regions to touch. Anne felt Ann’s softness over hers. Soon enough, Ann began grinding with much vigor. It didn’t take them too long, Ann was already wet enough. As soon as Ann’s breath became more ragged, her movements became more frantic. Ann moved with so much force and soon enough, Ann could feel her stiffen and then she let out a loud cry. It was so intense that Anne followed right after. Ann’s sweaty form slumped over Anne’s.

Anne held her close; the experience was so strong that Anne could only marvel at Ann’s new dominant side. Anne could hear Ann’s heart beating so fast above hers. She knew that at this point, she would do anything to keep her close.

* * *

“So, what now?” Ann was seated on the kitchen counter; she was wearing an oversized white sleepshirt that dropped on one shoulder. Anne had her back turned; she wore a black tank top from Ann’s closet and a pair of pajama pants that did not reach her ankles.

“What do you mean?” Anne was flipping blueberry pancakes.

It was almost noon but the couple was just preparing breakfast. Mrs. Cordingley had taken care of the breakfast and lunch services at the inn. Marian was just happy enough to allow her sister some free time, the moment she found out that she had already sorted things out with Ann Walker.

“Should we just carry on like nothing happened?” Ann raised an eyebrow.

“So, many things happened Ann, we can’t just pretend it didn’t.” Anne placed the pancakes in a plate. “Also, I can’t complain about what happened last night. I like that side of you.” Anne implied.

“So, you’ll travel with me?” Ann incited.

Anne took a deep breath before answering. “Maybe at some places but maybe not all the time. You know I have responsibilities at Shibden.”

Ann’s face dropped. “That’s understandable.”

“But it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t.” Anne advised. “After all, I’ll always be here when you get home.”

Ann gave Anne a weak smile.

“Where are you off too, anyway?” Anne inquired as she started to feed Ann some pancakes.

“Well, I’ll be visiting Liz this fall, then after that, I’ll have another show in Amsterdam. I’ll be back by winter; I’ll spend the holidays here, definitely.” Ann said in between bites. “Then I’ll be off to Madrid after New Year’s for another show and maybe spending some time in Nice for a workshop and then I’ll have that residency program in Florence the entire Spring.” Ann pondered.

“And you’ll be back here in Summer.” Anne enjoined.

“But that’s like so many months away from you.” Ann protested.

“You’ve always had that life before I came back.” Anne enlightened. “We can work around it.”

Ann furrowed her brows at Anne’s reply.

“Look, I need to be here until the kitchen is settled with Mrs. Cordingley. I might take a couple of months. Then, we can make arrangements; I can drop by Amsterdam, follow you to Madrid, and even stay with you in Florence for a few weeks. I would even go to New Zealand if Liz lets me.” Anne tried to cheer Ann up.

“You would do that?” Ann challenged.

“You’re in my life now. It means we need to try to fit into each other’s plans. We should stop making life plans separately if we want this to work. The last thing that I want is to hold you back, remember.” Anne gave Ann a reassuring hug. “I’ll try to fit myself into your schedule.”

“I mean, these things were planned a year ahead. Surely, things would be different the following year…” Ann started to ramble. Anne silenced her with a quick peck.

“I know,” Anne whispered. “Let’s just always try to be open and talk about stuff from now on. We learned the hard way.”

“We did, indeed.” Ann beamed at her girlfriend.

* * *

The afternoon was quiet, Anne decided not to go to Shibden altogether, Marian assured her that she was on top of everything. The couple laid in Ann’s massive couch; they had their backs positioned on opposite ends, a blanket over both their feet. Anne looked up from the book she was reading, Ann was immersed in her phone, reading some article about her show in Paris.

The light that penetrated the room illuminated Ann’s golden locks. Her blonde hair glowed like precious gilding. Her piercing blue eyes shone like clear skies. Ann furrowed her brows, she was biting her lower lip, she was in deep contemplation.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Anne queried.

Ann just shook her head and heaved a sigh. “Just reading an article.”

“Did they say anything bad?” Anne probed.

“Nothing to worry about.” Anne radiated.

“Why the concerned look?” Anne raised an eyebrow.

“It’s just that, I’m used to working with obscure feelings. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy now.” Ann rubbed her toes against Anne’s. “But I just wonder how this will affect my art.”

“Happiness?” Anne was baffled.

“For most artists that I know, it is from great sadness that they were lead to their masterpieces.” Ann conjectured.

“So, you’re telling me that it’s hard for you to make art when you’re happy?” Anne spelled out. “Well, tell that to the wall in my pub.”

Ann gave a saccharine smile. “This is just new you know. I’m not really sure how to navigate around it yet.”

“Well, I suppose you’ll get the hang of it eventually. It might inspire a new form if you ask me.” Anne wiggled her eyebrows.

“You really think so?” Ann was still a bit skeptical.

“I know so.” Anne persuaded.

* * *

“I need to get back to work tomorrow.” Anne muttered. They were lying in bed now. It was almost midnight. The rest of the evening was spent with more unstinting lovemaking.

Ann shifted from under the sheets, revealing her naked torso. Her blonde tresses hung loose over her shoulder.

“I’m glad you came home to knock some sense out of me.” Anne murmured. She caressed Anne’s cheek with the back of her hand.

“What could you have been doing now if I didn’t?” Ann taunted.

“Well, the same way you found me, wallowing in self-pity and pride with a bottle of absinthe.” Anne laughed.

“So, if I didn’t decide to come home earlier, I would have ended up with an egotistic alcoholic?” Ann teased.

“What do you mean?” Anne wondered. “You would still have pursued me even if I was already at my worst?”

“I couldn’t say that I didn’t hate you for how you acted. I would bring it up whenever you decide to do something stupid again. But yes, I would still try. I’m not here to fix anything Anne, it’s just that I think I’m devoted to you forever, it’s my weakness.” Ann replied.

Anne gazed at her girlfriend affectionately. “Can you promise me one thing?”

Ann nodded.

“Father told me something and I guess I want you to hear this. He said something like, _in giving your heart away to someone; you give them all the power to be able to crush your heart in the palm of their hand._ ” Anne shared. “Don’t ever let anyone do that to you, not even me, for any reason.”

Ann just smiled and gave Anne a quick peck.

“I won’t, I promise.” She whispered. “But you have my heart, you know.”

“And you have mine.” Anne held Ann close.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following this story, we are nearing the end but this is not yet the end. We are just done with the heavy part.


	23. Don't Think of the Other Places You Should Have Been (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I missed you,” Anne whispered so that only Ann could hear.
> 
> “I’m here now,” Ann whispered back and gave Anne a lingering kiss on the cheek.

* * *

_**The Following Summer** _

What is summer like in Halifax? It is usually described as the period of two extremes- it is typically comprised of a couple of heatwaves followed by thunderstorms. Anne looked at the back of her hand; she had been cooking all morning. Her skin looked a bit stretched and wrinkly, perhaps it was work, and perhaps it was age. Time had drifted by like an era of two extremes for Anne. The Halifax summer was a metaphor- her life had taken a turn, first, it was erratic then it became inspired. There was a series of events that led her to where she is now. Wrong decisions came in succession but then everything just fell into place. 

Anne peeked through the kitchen window of the back of the house of the Shibden Inn kitchen. Perhaps today was not the diurnal of such extreme weather. The sun was up and it was partly cloudy; cumulus clouds drifted in the sky like puffs of cotton. The air wasn’t too humid or too cold. _Perhaps it was going to be a beautiful day_. 

Lunch service at Shibden Inn wasn’t that chaotic. Due to the good weather, most of their guests may be strolling around the main street or away in some destination adventure. But lunch service at Shibden Inn was going to be special that day.

Mrs. Cordingley, Anne’s sous chef, was going back and forth inside the kitchen. She was working on her own recipe, something more traditional, and something that Anne learned from her. The other kitchen staff were very much busy with their respective prep work and assignments. Anne patted her sweaty forehead with a towel that hung over her shoulder. She donned her usual black chef’s uniform, black bandana to hold her hair back, and her favorite pair of clogs. Anne was whisking something in a pot. She was in deep concentration.

She was preparing something new, a dish called _Fish and Fungi._ Contrary to popular belief, the fungi in this dish are not mushrooms but okra cooked into a thick mash with the addition of cornmeal and water. Anne was making the fungi. She learned this creole dish from her travels to the British Virgin Islands when she was a young chef. It was the Caribbean version of polenta. It was a simple dish, historically; it originated during the period of slavery when slaves were only allowed to have a limited amounted of cornmeal and herring weekly. It made use of all sorts of vegetables and spices, okra, celery, tomatoes, and habanero peppers. Anne loved the simplicity of the dish and the story behind it. Anne carefully assembled the dish in several plates. She laid out the fillets of fish carefully and then she added the fungi and the sauce as if she was making an artwork.

“Is the c _awl_ ready, Madam Cordingley?” Anne bellowed, loud enough for her sous chef to hear.

“In five minutes, chef!” Mrs. Cordingley responded behind Anne.

Anne approached Mrs. Cordingley’s workstation.

“It smells nice.” Anne muttered as Mrs. Cordingley opened a large pot of what looks like pale stew. “You know what you’re doing, right?” Anne teased.

“Oh, go back to your work, don’t you dare pester me with this one, I’m Welsh!” Mrs. Cordingley remarked.

Mrs. Cordingley added shreds of cabbage into the pot. A platter of bread and empty bowls were lined up on the counter beside her. She was preparing cawl, a traditional Welsh soup. It was typically made of lamb, beef, mutton, seafood, fish or salted bacon but this time they decided on beef to complement the fish. It is filled with root vegetables and aromatics, which normally included potatoes and leeks. Mrs. Cordingley had allowed it to rest overnight, letting the flavors seep in. Traditionally, it was a type of winter food but no one said they couldn’t have it in any other time in the year. It was a recipe from her grandmother and Anne had been prompting her to come up with her own recipes in the inn. Perhaps deciding to go local and traditional had been best; they still have the Barlow Farm as their main supplier. It was safe to say that the inn was thriving at this point.

“You’ll take care of the rest? I need to head out now.” Anne asked for consent as she wiped her hand on a towel.

“Go now; I heard that Jeremy has already walked in.” Mrs. Cordingley motioned Anne to head towards the dining hall.

As Anne exited the kitchen, Eugenie was carrying a tray filled of glasses of barley water from the bar.

“Madam Lister,” Eugenie nodded as Anne gave way to her.

It was lunchtime on a Sunday but one section of the dining hall of Shibden Inn was closed for family. Anne greeted a few patrons as she walked passed them, some of them had just arrived while the others were being served their main courses. Many of the locals had already frequented the pub for lunch or dinner or maybe to share a drink or two in the evening. There was some low background music, Anne walked passed the mural in the main hall. She gazed at it for a while and smiled. _How time had passed,_ she told herself. As she came nearer to the adjoined tables, she could hear some boisterous laughter coming from her destination. Eugenie had already served out the drinks and appetizers; she beamed at Anne as they crossed paths again.

Her father was seated at the end of the table, he furrowed his brows, and he was having a thoughtful discussion with Samuel who was seated to his left. Seated to Jeremy’s right was Marian, a now very pregnant Marian. Her tummy was very visible in her light blue dress. Thomas Beech sat beside his wife, he wore a short sleeved shirt of the same color. The couple had a wedding the previous winter. If you ask them, it wasn’t sudden but it probably had something to do with Anne’s discovery of a pregnancy test that read positive in their bathroom trash. To note that Anne was remarkably involved in the milestones of her sister’s relationship with Thomas was an understatement. But she definitely begged them that she should not be at the delivery room for any reason once Marian gives birth. Marian was now at the end of her third trimester and the baby might arrive in a matter of weeks.

“Have you decided on names yet?” A familiar smoky voice asked Marian from across the table.

It was Mariana; she was dressed in a paisley printed top, a light orange sweater and khaki trousers. Being in good terms with the Listers, Mariana has decided to spend the summer in Halifax; she got a room in the inn this time. She had been working so much in London that she needed some time off. She had inherited some of Charles’ businesses, the others went to his siblings, but she now had enough wealth to last her a lifetime. Mariana could have been in some singles’ Caribbean cruise at this point but in the end, she had decided to retreat to Halifax. To Anne’s surprise, Mariana was either practicing some form of celibacy or that she has finally met someone she plans to take seriously. She talked about some architect that she met when she remodeled her office but she remained mum about it for quite a while. Perhaps this summer, Anne might find out about her friend’s liaisons. Their friendship has in fact bloomed into something familial; Mariana had been estranged from her family for years. She and Charles did not have a child and she was not in best terms with Charles’ family either. So, it was definitely logical to visit Halifax, at least she had some semblance of family there.

“Well, we thought about those unusual unisex names like Cyd or Gable.” Marian answered.

“Gable? You are not naming your child after a type of roof.” Anne chuckled as she reached the table.

“Or November!” Thomas interjected.

“Like when the baby was made?” Anne teased as she took her seat beside Thomas. 

“Hey, no funny names, remember?” Marian elbowed Thomas.

“Unisex names? You haven’t figured out the sex of the baby yet?” Mariana probed.

“We just decided that we wanted to be surprised.” Thomas beamed.

“As if there weren’t enough surprises to begin with.” Anne continued to tease; she was referring to how they found out about the pregnancy.

Marian glared at her; Jeremy and Samuel were just oblivious to their conversation at the other end of the table. Anne looked at her wristwatch; lunch has already started. She gawked at the door; it hasn’t opened in the past thirty minutes.

Anne took a deep breath. _What’s taking so long?_

Then the familiar chimes of the door rang, Anne felt as if she was windswept, she couldn’t help but smile. Garbed in a yellow sundress with navy butterfly prints, was the person she had been waiting for. Her blonde locks cascaded just right above her shoulders, her freckles became more evident from the heat outside. Her bright blue eyes looked livelier than before. She paused for a while trying to find her bearings and then she caught Anne’s gaze. Ann Walker entered Shibden Inn.

She glided towards them; everyone at their table directed their attention towards her. Samuel stood up to greet her, “There you are!”

She moved to place a soft peck on Jeremy’s temple, “I’m sorry we’re late.”

Catherine was behind Ann, she wore an olive tunic and a dark pair of pants, a leather hobo bag hung on her shoulder. Catherine had volunteered to pick Ann up from the airport. The lunch was to celebrate Ann’s homecoming. 

“Very sorry we’re a bit late, some accident along the way.” Catherine added.

“Surely, you weren’t involved?” Jeremy clarified.

“Some cargo truck had a minor problem, blocked off part of the highway. We needed to wait until it was cleared out.” Catherine explained.

“Nothing to worry about.” Ann simplified with a smile.

“Good then, come sit down.” Jeremy invited the cousins at the table.

Catherine took the seat beside Mariana. Ann walked slowly towards Anne. Anne pulled the chair at the end of the table, opposite Jeremy.

“Hey,” Ann greeted Anne with a warm smile.

Instead of greeting her back, Anne pulled Anne close and contained her in a bone-crushing hug. Ann was finally back from her residency in Florence. Anne had visited her a couple of times staying for a few days but they had been apart for more than a month.

“I missed you,” Anne whispered so that only Ann could hear.

“I’m here now,” Ann whispered back and gave Anne a lingering kiss on the cheek.

“Save that for later lovebirds, I’m starving! I’m eating for two you know!” Marian interrupted.

Anne and Ann released each other and just smiled at Marian’s antics. She became grumpier since the pregnancy, how Thomas manages, Anne can’t fathom. The couple sat down to their respective seats and a wait staff arrived with their soups.

“Cawl?” Jeremy inquired as a steaming bowl beef soup was placed before him.

“Cawl and then fish and fungi,” Anne confirmed.

“Cordingley’s?” Samuel inquired as he took a mouthful; Anne just nodded. “Well, she had certainly outdone herself.” He added as he took a bite of bread.

Anne just looked at everyone at the table. Jeremy and Samuel were back to their quiet discussion. Mariana and Catherine were chatting about some shop that they both visited in Paris. Marian and Thomas kept bickering, Thomas insisted on feeding his wife. It was a typical Sunday lunch and they had a strange family.

Ann snaked her hand on top of Anne’s hand that was rested on the table. She gave Ann a knowing look; this brightness had still managed to fill Anne’s stomach with butterflies. Ann’s palm felt so warm over hers, they intertwined their fingers. Ann was home now; they were both home.

* * *

Auburn sunlight hit Ann’s golden mane; Anne played with the tips of her hair, circling her fingers gently on Ann’s loose curls. They were back in Ann’s studio, in Ann’s bedroom; they had spent the afternoon making love. These encounters were always intense, especially since they would be far apart at different points over the year. Some encounters were rushed; others were slow and savored. However, at this point, Anne just felt at ease, at peace, they were no longer against any time or distance. The past year had been difficult, traveling, extricating oneself at some point. But they shared adventures, they wrote down memories.

New Zealand was splendid, they had just spent some quality time with Liz and her family. Ann bonded with her nieces and nephew, Liz and Anne were just reminiscing their olden days. New Zealand was quiet and it was remarkable. Amsterdam was stimulating; the couple were rather a bit adventurous. It was the peak of their _honeymoon stage;_ they were quite exploratory with many things. Madrid was a gastronomic experience for Anne; it was an escapade from their work life. They went to nearby sites and probably gained a pound or two sampling every other restaurant and winery. For Ann, Florence was mostly work. But for Anne, it was a test of patience, of devotion. They lived together in Ann’s rented apartment in Florence; Ann went to work while Anne was often left to her own volition wandering the city by herself. It was there that they were truly alone, in unfamiliar territory, without many friends, with people speaking a foreign tongue. Anne could say that she had several isolated moments when she was visiting, but she didn’t mind it. The highlight of her day was Anne coming home from school at the end of the day. She would prepare a meal, purchasing some Italian ingredient that she would be experimenting on. They would share dinner and probably make love after. Some nights were spent watching movies or just talking over a bottle of wine. Their time in Florence was strangely domestic and Anne realized how much she loved that. In Ann’s last month in Florence, Anne needed to get back to the inn. She couldn’t be away for so long with Marian’s pregnancy, Cordingley and Samuel needed all the help from her. But now Ann was back, there were no pending tasks or work abroad anymore. She was just back at home; they could plan the following year together.

Ann jerked up; she sat up with her back against the headboard. She pulled the blanket to cover her naked torso.

“Open the side table drawer.” She motioned to Anne.

Anne gave her a muddled look; she put on her black undershirt that was previously draped on the headboard. She moved to check the side table. Anne found nothing but a bunch of keys.

“What’s this?” She held the keys by the key ring.

“The keys to this place.” Ann gave her a tender smile.

“But James is always here, somewhere, I come and go as I please…” Anne was about to reason.

“Move in with me,” Ann appealed with her bright blue eyes.

Anne was shocked; she was actually over the moon. She didn’t expect Ann to make the first move.

“You know very well that I’m just literally like the girl next door.” Anne managed to joke.

“Do you want to move in with me or not?” Ann was sounding more authoritative, it was actually quite commanding and Anne just loved teasing her.

Anne only moved to give her a long fervent kiss. Ann smiled and bit Anne’s lower lip softly before releasing it.

“I would want nothing else,” Anne whispered.

“You’re not inheriting your father’s house right? Because it would be weird if we have two houses in Halifax.” Ann had a sudden realization.

“Father has named it after Marian already,” Anne answered. “I actually have Shibden.”

“I thought so,” Ann beamed. “So, you think you would want to remodel this place, too?” Ann furrowed her brows.

“I don’t think I should add anything more to it,” Anne flopped back on the bed. “It’s cozy, warm, just like you. Plus, it’s already home, especially since now, you will be always in it!”

“Are you schmoozing me?” Ann snapped.

“I’m just stating the facts.” Anne gave her a peck on the cheek. “You’re prettier when you are all riled up.”

Ann just gave her a kindly look. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Anne said back.

On that note, they had decided to succumb back to the comfort of their bed.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are very much nearing the end of this story, thank you for accompanying me!


	24. Gold in the Air of Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We have a surprise for you.” Anne took Ann’s hand.

* * *

**Five Summers Later**

The sun was high in mid-morning at Halifax. Birds were chirping, bees were bustling, and the air smelled like petrichor. The evening rain has softened the ground and the air was warm on a summer day. Ann sat on the bench at the mudroom; she put on a pair of work boots and rubber gloves. She wore her acid wash dungarees and a red tank top underneath; she tied a bandana around her neck and she headed to the garden outside.

Ann kept an herb garden at the empty plot outside of her studio. There were leeks, shallots, chili peppers, rosemary, sweet basil, thyme, and parsley in the lot. She was now exploring hydroponics, growing lettuce, radishes, tomatoes, strawberries, mint, and chives in the opposite lot. The Barlow couple had helped her set up this small garden; though they remained as the main supplier for Shibden.

“Looks like the strawberries are ready for harvesting, ma’am.” James greeted her as he tipped his straw hat upon examining and plucking a strawberry.

The surface of the strawberries sparkled under the sunlight. Ann took the piece of fruit from James; she washed it in a nearby faucet and took a bite.

“Not so bad, eh James?” Ann smiled.

“I’ll go get a basket.” James gestured as he went away.

Ann marveled at the garden, it started as a hobby with some potted herbs and she had finally decided to sow the empty plot in the compound. Ann went around some more looking into the other plants. The tomatoes would be ready any time soon, small ones, cherry tomatoes, perfect for salads, she thought.

As Ann continued to move around, she suddenly heard a sweet small voice calling out to her, “Auntie Ann! Auntie Ann!”

A spirited little girl came bouncing in to the garden. She had blue eyes like Ann’s, a mane of thick wavy brown hair, and pink cheeks. “Hello, Ray.” Ann greeted the tot.

“I missed you!” She crashed into Ann and enveloped her lower torso in a tight hug.

“Who brought you here?” Ann wondered. “Are you with your mom?” Ann stooped down to meet Ray’s eyes.

“I’m with Auntie Annie, we rode dad’s truck!” Ray replied enthusiastically. To avoid confusion between the two aunties, Anne decided that she would be Auntie Annie. Ray is Thomas and Marian’s first born, Ray has a baby brother named Ellis born a year after.

“And where is your Auntie Annie now?” Ann raised an eyebrow.

“Outside,” Ray had a mischievous smile. “Come, follow me outside!” She dragged Ann by the hand.

Ray headed back into the mudroom to enter via the studio but Ann scooped her up.

“Let’s pass this way, through the yard, that way; we won’t get our dirty shoes into the house.” Ann explained.

The toddler giggled in her arms. “But I’m already too heavy Auntie Ann, see, I’m a big girl now!” Ray exclaimed.

Ray does indeed have the Lister spirit, outspoken, confident, and sometimes stubborn. However, her brother Ellis took after his father, a bit meek, charming, and amiable. Ellis has dark blonde hair and blue eyes, tangibly, a copy of his father.

“Where’s Ellis?” Ann inquired.

“He’s at home with mum,” Ray answered. "He likes to stay indoors, I don't."

“And what are you doing with Auntie Anne? Isn’t she supposed to be at Shibden?” Ann realized.

“You ask too many questions, Auntie Ann.” The tot grimaced. “You’re weird.” She added.

“Weird?” Ann was surprised at Ray’s antics. “Do you even know what weird means?”

“It’s a new word I like to use!” Ray exclaimed.

“Is that your word for the day?” Ann asked. The toddler just nodded. Ray is smart and very inquisitive. That’s why Anne was so fond of her, she always volunteered to look after Ray. The child was starting to pick up some of Anne’s habits, her sarcasm and humor was already rubbing on the child. Marian was not so happy about it, seeing Ray becoming like Anne but Thomas was ecstatic. He kept on saying that he had always wanted a feisty, go-getter daughter, that’s why she married a Lister.

“You’re slow,” Ray jumped from Ann’s hold. “Let’s go!” she dragged Ann by her wrist.

“What is this that you are so excited about?” Ann was intrigued.

When they reached the front yard, Anne was standing there with her back reclined on the hood of Thomas’ truck. She waved and flashed Ann a cheeky smile. Anne’s short brown hair framed her face; she was wearing a plain black t-shirt tucked into a pair of faded denims.

“I thought you were at work.” Ann speculated.

Anne had already left when Ann woke up. Anne left her a hearty breakfast and flowers with a note. It wasn’t just an ordinary, it was a special day, but Ann just tried not to make a big deal about it.

“We have a surprise for you.” Anne took Ann’s hand. Ray looked at them in excitement.

Anne led Ann to the rear bed of the truck, as Anne pulled down the tailgate of the truck; she was surprised by what she saw.

Jumping gleefully inside a carrier is a puppy. It has short dense coat and a tail called an otter tail. The puppy looked at Ann with friendly eyes. Anne moved to open the carrier and handed the puppy to Ann.

“Happy Anniversary, love!” Anne kissed Ann’s temple as she passed the puppy to Ann’s arms.

“Surprise!” Ray exclaimed, Anne moved to her side. “Do you like him?”

The puppy was already fond of Ann, he wasn’t squirming, he was actually smelling Ann’s face.

“So, this is what you two were up to all morning!” Ann realized. Ann and Anne were celebrating their anniversary as a couple. Initially, Anne thought these milestones were a bit cheesy but Ann was secretly fond of cheesy. It had been five years, five blissful years together.

“What is his name?” Ray asked.

“Well, he looks like an Argus if you ask me.” Anne had been visiting the pup at the shelter for several weeks now. Trying to assess if the puppy would warm up to her. The Labrador Retriever had a yellow coat and chiseled bone structure. Anne had already thought of his name, she just hoped that Ann would agree. 

“You do look like an Argus.” Ann grasped and the puppy barked. “I guess he agrees then, what do you think Ray?”

“Well, Auntie Annie said I should convince you just in case you won’t agree…” Ray confessed.

“Hey, we talked about that.” Anne interjected.

* * *

The following evening, Anne and Ann were nestled in their sofa, Anne played with Ann’s hand as they watched a documentary series about modern artists. The episode that evening was about Georgia O’Keeffe. Anne was comfortable in her pair of black silk pajamas. Ann wore a mismatched pair of pajamas, a top with flamingo prints and the bottoms were plain gray. Argus was already napping peacefully under the massive dining table.

“Now, I could not help but see a vagina every time I see a flower.” Anne commented as the documentary about O’Keeffe’s works went on.

“Well, flowers are basically the plant’s sexual organ.” Ann giggled.

“Wasn’t it Salinger who said that _whatever women say they want, they want flowers?”_ Anne quipped.

“Yes, we do, we want to receive plant reproductive parts for every occasion or for no occasion at all.” Ann snickered.

Ann stretched, she extended her legs and Anne placed them on her lap. She started to massage Ann’s calf muscles and feet.

“See said something like, _I feel there is something unexplored about women that only a woman can explore_.” Ann muttered.

“I think I agree with her, don’t you?” Anne insinuated.

“Not like that!” Ann chuckled and slapped Anne’s shoulder. “She pioneered a lot, for women in art, for feminism.”

“I know that,” Anne retorted.

“She lived for a very long time, you know, Georgia O’Keeffe, she died at the age of 98. They said she painted until she went blind.” Ann hummed.

“That’s a long time.” Anne murmured.

The couple sighed; there was a pregnant pause between them. Ann furrowed her brows; Anne could tell that the cogs in her head were turning.

“I think I would like to live that long,” Ann mumbled. “With you.”

“We both know that between the two of us, I would be the one to go first. You’re with an old lady you know.” Anne jibed.

“Don’t be like that, that’s too morbid. Take it back!” Ann reacted. She jolted from her position.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I take it back,” Anne apologized. “We would probably be together forever.” Anne was back to her sarcastic self.

Ann pouted; she did not like it when Anne talked about the future that way. She could not imagine a future without Anne.

Anne caught on; she knew that Ann’s thoughts were already miles away.

“Hey, are you just okay with this? I mean with us here in the sofa, every night, just you know, being us?” Anne prodded.

In the past five years, Ann has indeed spent a lot of time in Halifax. She had nurtured a garden. She did continue to paint; accepted commissions, had at least one show every year to stay in the circuit. It bothered Anne a bit, how the mundanity of their life would probably affect Ann’s disposition. She felt like she was wasting her youth away, only to be at the same pace with Anne, which is settling. Of course, settling felt unsettling.

“What do you mean?” Ann wrinkled her brows.

“I know we already talked about this many times before. But I mean, don’t you feel trapped in the mundanity of our life?” Anne questioned.

“This is not mundane, Anne or just plain domestic or whatever you call it. This is life, this is life with you and I love every second of it.” Ann took Anne’s hand and kissed the back of her palm.

Just then, it dawned at Anne, there wasn’t a perfect moment for anything. She had felt it in her gut; she had felt it for years. It had been six years since the summer that they first met each other again. She was in denial at first, seemingly waiting for a storm in the calmness of their life. But there was no storm coming, not anymore, this was it; it was just the calm. Without hesitation, Anne uttered the words that she had been burying for the past couple of years.

“Will you marry me, then?” Anne blurted out. She was wearing a couple of rings for the past few years; she took off the one from her middle finger. It was a filigree ring with a black obsidian.

Ann was taken aback at first; she removed her legs from Anne’s lap. She sat properly facing Ann. She tried to open her mouth but she was speechless.

“I would like not to ask you again.” Anne uttered carefully, too terrified of Ann’s reaction. _Was this not the right time? Was this not the right way? Did Ann want a romantic over the top gesture?_

Instead of answering, Ann moved only to encase her in a passionate kiss. Anne had immediately tasted something salty; a tear had escaped Ann’s eye.

Ann pulled back to take a breath. “I thought you would never ask.” She gasped. “Not that I haven’t thought of asking.” She immediately added. Anne just chuckled at Ann’s revelation.

“So, what do you say? Are you ready to live up to 98 years with me?” Anne teased.

“Up to 98 years and maybe more.” Ann exclaimed. Anne inserted the ring into Ann’s finger.

 _Is there anything more beautiful in life than love?_ It was Anne’s final thought before she carried Ann towards the bedroom.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, everyone for appreciating and reading this fic. All is well in the alternate universe, I hope I have given them a proper ending. 
> 
> Until the next fic, hopefully, in the near future!


End file.
